


I Reach For You and You Bring Me Home

by GreenOrnaments



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Canon, Amnesia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meeting Again, Science Fiction, Virtual Reality, semi-friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-11-25 16:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20914802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenOrnaments/pseuds/GreenOrnaments
Summary: Eddie survived the battle with Pennywise, but is now caught on the thin line between life and death. The only one who can bring him home is his one true love, Richie. With a little help from some truly remarkable science that shouldn’t be possible. Concept very loosely based upon the Black Mirror episode ‘San Junipero’





	1. Chapter 1

“_EDDIEEE_!”

Eddie’s eyes snapped open, his body struggling to remain upright as he involuntarily took a sudden step backwards and almost tripped over his own feet. He blinked, turning his head this way and that to take in his surroundings. He vaguely recognized where he was to be the lobby of the Townhouse, the only lodging option in his one horse hometown of Derry, Maine. There was the front desk, perpetually unstaffed, as always. There was the ornate staircase leading up to the rooms. There was the equally unstaffed bar, filled to the brim with various bottles of assorted spirits, many of which looked as though they had been sitting there untouched since the 1970s and may very well have been. Yes, he knew exactly where he was. 

How he had gotten there, however, was, at the moment, a complete mystery. Hell, why he was there at all was just as good of a question right then.

“_WE CAN STILL HELP HIM!_”

He winced and shook his head, the faint voice still ringing in his ears. It sounded dimly familiar, almost like a song he’d heard once and forgotten, but he couldn’t quite place it. Not that he could focus enough to place it even if he tried. He was suddenly very aware of a dull ache in the middle of his torso, radiating down from his chest and into his stomach. He looked down at himself, patting his body down as he searched for the source of the mysterious ailment. Finding nothing, he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and leaned tiredly against the reception desk. 

_Christ, Eddie_, he inwardly chastised himself. _You’re a fucking mess. First a blackout and now...whatever this is. A heart attack? Stomach cancer? Maybe it’s an allergic reaction to something._

He was in the middle of debating with himself over which deadly disease he must have picked up along the way when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden noise of the bed and breakfast’s front door crashing open. Eddie jumped, adrenaline from the unexpected scare coursing through his veins as he turned to see a man standing in the doorway. 

“What the fuck, man?” he admonished the stranger, reaching into his pocket for his inhaler as he struggled to catch his breath. “Your mom never teach you how to open a friggin door?”

The man just stared at him, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as he slowly took a step forward into the building. He looked absolutely disheveled. His hair was wild and untamed, his clothes were a rumpled mess and he had bags under his eyes as though he hadn’t slept in days.

“I...I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just...I…” The stranger stumbled over his words as he continued to stare weirdly at Eddie, a faint look of concern ghosting over his face as his eyes followed the inhaler. “God, I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“What, this?” asked Eddie, indicating the inhaler in his hand as he took one final puff. “It’s not ideal, but I’ll live.” He shoved the device back into his pocket and gave the man a thorough visual inspection, taking in the small details of him for the first time now that he could breathe normally. He was about Eddie’s age, taller than he, with unkempt brown hair and dark glasses that formed the centerpiece of his handsome face. Eddie let his gaze drift from the man’s broad chest down to the slight muscles visible beneath his short sleeved, mustard yellow shirt before he collected himself and focused back on his face.

“So, do you work here or what?” he asked, his face scrunching up a bit as he tried to figure out why, despite the fact that he had never seen this man in his life before ten seconds ago, he still looked vaguely familiar to him. “I kinda need to check in here.” 

The other man’s eyes darkened and Eddie could swear he saw them well up for just a second, the well formed chin giving off the tiniest of quivers before his mysterious visitor shook himself out of whatever trance he’d seemed to be in. 

“Fuck no, I don’t work here,” he said in a casual tone, one hand reaching up to swipe at his eye from beneath his glasses. “They couldn’t pay me enough. Can you imagine the kind of filthy ‘Fifty Shades’ bullshit the freaks in this town probably get up to here at the Bates Motel?”

Eddie snorted in spite of himself. A look of relief passed over the other man’s face at the sound.

“Sorry I scared you, man. I just….I was in a hurry and well, I guess I never _was_ taught how to enter a room correctly.” The man sniffed and fidgeted nervously, and Eddie noticed that he didn’t seem to know what the hell to do with his hands. They were all over the place, in and out of his pockets in between soft taps on the side of his thigh. Truthfully, it was sort of endearing. He wished he could figure out why in the world this complete stranger still seemed so familiar. He knew...he could _swear_ he’d seen this man before. 

“That’s fine,” he replied, crossing his arms over his own chest protectively as he searched the man’s face for any indication of where he knew him from. “I don’t mean to stare you down, but have we met before?” 

The other man blanched. There it was again, that weird, tiny quiver in his chin. “I don’t think so, sorry,” he replied, every word sounding as if it were a chore even though he was clearly trying to sound casual. “But maybe you’ve seen one of my Netflix specials.”

Eddie blinked. “Sorry, what?”

The other man smiled and finally closed the remaining gap between them, extending one hand for Eddie to shake. “I’m Richie Tozier. Not exactly a world famous comedian, but people pay me money to tell dumb jokes sometimes.” 

“Oh!” Eddie exclaimed as he shook the offered hand. As it happened, he had seen one of those specials. He thought. Maybe. The name was familiar to him, anyway. “Ok, yeah, that explains it. I knew I’d seen you somewhere before. I don’t….um...I haven’t seen all of...I’ve heard the name before, for sure.”

_Oh my god Eddie shut the fuck up, you’re making an ass of yourself._

“I’m Eddie. Kaspbrak. Edward Kaspbrak, nice to meet you,” he said awkwardly, feeling heat rising to the surface of his cheeks as he tried not to let himself wonder why he gave such a fuck what this man thought of him. He realized he was still holding on to Richie’s hand and dropped it like a hot potato, clearing his throat as he shoved both hands in the pockets of his maroon jacket.

Richie chuckled. “Likewise.” His dark eyes met Eddie’s for a brief instant before dropping down to the pile of suitcases at his feet. “Fleeing the country?” he asked cheekily. 

Eddie followed his gaze and shook his head. “No, I just...I’m not a light packer. I like to be prepared for every possible situation at all times, so I tend to overpack.”

“Well I don’t think anyone’s showing up to check us in any time soon, so I guess we’re on our own,” said Richie. He resolutely moved past Eddie and stepped behind the front desk.

“What are you doing??” exclaimed Eddie. “We can’t just do that.”

“Oh my god, relax, I guarantee you nobody in this shithole is going to care,” replied Richie in a nonchalant tone. His voice was strangely comforting, as though Eddie had been listening to it his whole life. 

“Yeah, but..”

“Really,” said Richie reassuringly, his eyes carefully scanning the wall of room keys before selecting two of them and sliding one over the counter toward Eddie. “Here. You take four and I’ll take lucky number five.” 

Eddie looked at the key uncertainly for a moment before deciding to throw caution to the wind and take it in his hand. “Oh, what the fuck. Fine. But if we get caught and thrown out, I’m blaming you.” _Oh my god you did not just talk to a semi famous celebrity like that, Chriiiist. _

“Fair enough,” said Richie, a genuine grin spreading across his face for the first time since he’d entered the Townhouse. “You want help moving everything you own into your room, or have you got a handle on it?” He snorted at his own words. “Get it? Handle? Cause they’re suitcases?”

“That’s not one of the jokes people pay you money to tell, is it?” said Eddie snarkily as he made up his mind that he was going to do whatever it took to bring every single suitcase up the stairs himself even if it killed him. 

“Nah, the ones I get paid for usually involve a lot more dicks. Usually my own,” answered Richie, and Eddie felt his cheeks flushing once again for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. He placed one duffel bag under his arm and took one suitcase in each hand, after which he stood there awkwardly for a moment, not wanting to admit defeat but knowing damn well he was going to have to struggle to find a way to get the fourth bag up the stairs without looking stupid. 

“I’ll be back for that one,” he said finally, making himself as tall as he could under the weight of all his baggage. He moved toward the staircase, keenly aware of Richie’s eyes on him as he took one careful step after another so as not to upset his balance. He turned back to give him an “I told you I got this” look, which unfortunately caused him to lose focus and take a misstep that resulted in him tripping and dropping the duffel bag halfway down the stairs. 

Richie’s amused expression quickly shifted to concern and he practically bolted out from behind the reception desk, reaching Eddie’s spot on the stairs in under three seconds. “It’s fine, bro, you’ve proved you’re a strong independent man who don’t need no man, but please, let me help you,” he insisted, grabbing the fallen bag and placing a gentle hand on Eddie’s back to make sure he was balanced. Eddie watched as the other man went to retrieve the last bag before rejoining him on the stairs. 

“Really, I would have been fine,” Eddie said as he led the way upstairs and down the hallway that led to Room Four. “Hell, I’ve traveled with way more luggage than this. My wife always says-“ He stopped himself mid-sentence. Myra seemed a million miles away at the moment, and for some reason she was the absolute last thing he wanted to discuss with this mysterious, good-looking stranger. 

_Get a hold of yourself, Eddie. _

“So, what exactly brings you to Derry?” he asked, trying to smoothly change the subject. He felt, rather than saw the other man pause for a moment. 

“A reunion,” replied Richie at last. “A long overdue reunion.”

“Cool,” said Eddie casually. “Family reunion? You from here?”

“I am, actually,” said Richie.

“No way, so am I,” said Eddie as they finally reached the door to his room. “I mean, I live in New York now, working as a risk analyst, but I lived here when I was a kid.”

“So what, um...what brings you back?” asked Richie, his airy tone turning into a cautious one, as if he were trying to carefully choose how he phrased the question. 

Eddie stopped in the middle of turning the key in the lock. He hadn’t given it a single consideration before Richie’s question but, now that he thought about it, he didn’t actually know why he was there. He remembered packing, for sure. Fighting with Myra. Getting in the car. Driving through the night to reach Maine, he remembered all of that. But after he entered the Derry town limits, his mind went absolutely blank. Try as he might, he couldn’t dredge up a single memory between driving into town and magically finding himself inside the bed and breakfast. 

“Business,” he finally said as he finished unlocking the door and pushed it open. “I’m here on b- OW!” he exclaimed suddenly as a sharp pain radiated from the middle of his torso. He dropped his bags and slumped down against the wall, both hands clutching at his stomach. He vaguely sensed Richie dropping the bags he was carrying and rushing over to him, catching him in his arms and gently lowering him the rest of the way to the ground. 

“Eddie...Eds. Eds, are you ok??? Talk to me, buddy,” Richie pleaded with him as Eddie took short, gasping breaths to help himself through the pain.

“I think I’m fine, I just...my stomach fucking hurts,” Eddie groaned, reaching into his pocket to make sure his inhaler was there just in case. “Ever since I got here, my stomach and my head have just been…” He felt the pain begin to subside just as quickly as it had come on and, for the first time, properly took notice of the fact that Richie was practically cradling him, the other man’s dark eyes full of deep concern that was weirdly unusual for someone he’d only met ten minutes ago. 

“It’s passing,” he finally said self-consciously. He moved to get up and Richie took both his hands, delicately easing him back to a standing position before hesitantly letting go. Eddie looked down at his own hands, still feeling the heat from where the other man’s hands had been for a moment before he frowned and gave Richie a curious look. 

“Did you seriously just call me Eds?”

Richie flushed. “Oh, you know. You’re not the only Edward I know, ok? I call a lot of people Eds.” He met Eddie’s gaze and looked at him with a face that was still rife with worry. “Are you sure you’re ok?” His eyes lingered on Eddie’s midsection, almost as if he were desperate to look and make sure everything was indeed alright. 

“You don’t have to look so terrified,” Eddie said in what he hoped was a joking tone. “I’m not dying or anything.”

An unreadable expression flitted over Richie’s face, but be composed himself and patted Eddie awkwardly on the shoulder. “Good,” he said. “Cause I’m pretty sure there’d be one hell of a cleaning fee if you died in this room you didn’t even pay for.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, proud of himself for not dignifying that lame joke with a laugh. He opened his mouth, probably to embarrass himself, but before he could even form a sentence, a distant beeping noise interrupted his train of thought.

“You hear that?” he asked, looking around for the source of the noise. “Is there a smoke alarm on the fritz in here, or…” He trailed off as the room suddenly went blinding white for a few seconds, Richie and everything else around him slowly fading into nothingness right before everything went black.

*****

_Beep _

_Beep _

_Beeeep _

Richie carefully opened his eyes, blinking at the harsh fluorescent lights overhead as he slowly came back into reality. His surroundings gradually came into focus. The boring beige walls, the tile floor, the uncomfortable fake plastic chair he was sitting in, the noise of the various machines hooked up to Eddie, who was laying in the bed across from him, looking so small and helpless. Scattered around the room were the rest of his friends, Bill and Mike standing resolutely together in a corner while Bev and Ben shared the only other chair in the room. All four of them looked as exhausted as Richie felt, but he knew they couldn’t possibly feel as simultaneously elated and gut wrenchingly empty as he currently did. 

“Hey,” said Bev warmly, getting up off Ben’s lap and crossing over to Richie as a nurse gently removed the electronic nodes that had been placed on either side of his head. “How did it go?” she asked, placing one hand comfortingly on his arm and crouching down to meet his eyes.

“Did it work??” asked Bill excitedly.

“Did you find him?” inquired Mike. Everyone crossed the room and gathered around Richie in solidarity, waiting with bated breath for his response.

“I….he….I found him,” whispered Richie, and he realized at that moment that he was crying. All the tears he had been struggling to hold inside during his session so as to not alarm Eddie suddenly let loose and he sobbed as though his heart would break. He watched the nurse cross over to Eddie’s bed and carefully remove the nodes, identical to Richie’s, from the smaller man’s head. 

“I found him but...he doesn’t...he doesn’t remember…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter ended up being a hell of a lot longer than I intended, but foundation needed to be laid, so here we are. PLEASE let me know what y’all think ^-^

_ “Richie..” _

_ “He’s gone.” _

_ “He’s alright,” Richie insisted, turning to face his friends as words tumbled out of his mouth desperately. “He’s just hurt, we gotta get him out of here….we gotta get him out of here.” _

_ “Richie,” Bev pleaded with him. _

_ “What?” _

_ “Honey, he’s dead.” _

_ No. She was wrong. They were all wrong. He wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be. Not after everything they had just been through. Not after all the years that had already been wasted. Richie would be fucking damned if he was going to just give up now. _

_ “We have to go,” said Bev through her tears. “Come on, come on Richie.” _

_ “We gotta go,” said Bill, moving to pull Richie away from Eddie’s still form. Richie tightened his grip on Eddie, summoning all of his strength to resist the multiple pairs of arms that were all urgently grasping at him, trying to pull him away as their surroundings began to crumble around them. _

_ “We can still help him!” Richie sobbed, holding Eddie as close to him as he could and burying his face in the other man’s shoulder. “He’s just hurt, we can still help him. Guys, WE CAN STILL HELP HIM!” He felt himself being dragged away despite his efforts, and he kicked and fought, every fiber of his being screaming to get back to his Eds. Either he was going to get him out of there with the rest of them, or they would both die together. Either way, he wasn’t fucking leaving him there alone. _

_ “EDDIEEEE,” he screamed, finally managing to jar himself free from the grip of his friends. He threw himself back over to Eddie as rubble started falling from every direction, pelting the six of them and making escape less likely by the second. _

_ “Richie, please..” Bill begged him. _

_ “NO,” screamed Richie. “I’m getting him out of here and you can help me or not, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll die down here if I have to but I AM NOT LEAVING HIM.” He maneuvered himself in front of Eddie and gently placed his hands under the man’s arms, attempting to lift him up over his shoulder. He wasn’t nearly strong enough, but he kept at it, swatting away the others as they still tried to haul him away. _

_ “Here, move,” said Ben, stepping over and firmly pushing Richie away. _

_ “No, what are you…” _

_ “Just stand up and hold your arms out,” Ben ordered him. Richie obeyed, sidestepping to avoid being hit by a falling rock as he watched Ben delicately lift Eddie up over his shoulder. He stood up, struggling under the lifeless man’s dead weight. Richie held out his arms and Ben gently placed Eddie in them, holding on to the man’s legs so as to distribute the weight between the two of them. _

_ “Ok everybody, LET’S GET OUT OF HERE,” said Ben forcefully, and the group of them ran like hell, Bill and Mike leading the way while Bev, Ben and Richie brought up the rear. Richie tried not to jostle Eddie as they ran for their lives. He winced every time he felt a piece of debris fall, trying to move so that it would hit him and not Eddie and hoping that his jacket still bunched up against the other man’s stomach was enough to keep the worst of it out of his injuries. _

_ After what seemed like hours, they finally found their way outside, the house behind them crumbling into nonexistence with the angry noise of a thousand boulders hitting the ground at once. Richie and Ben carried Eddie a safe distance away and lightly set him down on top of the shirt Mike had removed from himself and set on top of the grass. _

_ “We have to get him to a hospital,” said Richie weakly through his tears as he knelt down and delicately pulled Eddie’s head into his lap, getting himself even more covered in blood in the process. Not that he gave a shit. All that mattered was that he’d gotten him out of that fucking hellhole, and even if...even if the worst happened now, at least he wasn’t alone down there in the dark anymore. _

_ “I’ve got you,” he whispered softly as he tenderly stroked Eddie’s non-injured cheek and rocked him while the other Losers looked on sorrowfully. “You’re ok, I’ve got you,” he repeated, even though in his gut he knew, from the extent of the other man’s injuries, that it probably wasn’t going to be ok. “You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re-“ _

_ He stopped short then, his breath catching in his throat as he felt movement from the body in his arms, a movement so tiny as to be almost imperceptible, but a definite movement all the same. It took him a second to comprehend it, and when he moved one hand down to Eddie’s chest, his eyes widened as he realized what it was. _

_ “HE’S STILL BREATHING,” he yelled, sobbing as he felt the definite rise and fall of Eddie’s shallow breaths and the tiny, weak heartbeat beneath the layers of clothing. _

_ “What??” exclaimed Beverly, running toward them with the others hot on her heels. _

_ “HE’S STILL ALIVE,” Richie screamed as his friends crowded around him to examine Eddie for themselves. _

_ “He’s right,” said Bill as he knelt down and lightly placed his ear to Eddie’s chest. “Jesus, he’s right. I hear a heartbeat.” _

_ “HE NEEDS A HOSPITAL,” cried Richie desperately. “Stop just fucking standing there. Someone call 911, god, please!” _

_ “An ambulance will take forever,” said Mike. “We don’t have time to wait, we’re going to have to drive him. Pick him up, I’ll start my car.” He took off down the street as Ben and Bill swooped in to scoop Eddie up out of Richie’s arms. Together they carried him to the car, Richie following closely behind to make sure his friend didn’t leave his sight for even a moment. _

_ “Get in,” Ben said to Richie when they reached the running vehicle. Richie complied, scurrying into the backseat before his friends worked together to gently settle Eddie in longways, his head resting on Richie’s lap. “Bev and I will follow you guys,” said Ben as Bill slid into the front passenger seat beside Mike. Richie barely heard him. He was too busy cradling Eddie and tenderly brushing bits of dirt and debris off of the man’s face as Mike stepped on the gas. _

_ “Hold on, Eds,” he murmured in Eddie’s ear as they drove through the streets of Derry and turned onto the highway. “You’ve made it this far, just hold on. Please. For me.” _

_ It seemed like forever before they finally reached the emergency room entrance of the nearest hospital. Mike parked the car while Bill and Richie hastily worked together to carry Eddie inside. They must have been quite the sight to see as they rushed in through the automatic double doors, balancing Eddie’s bloody form between them. _

_ “HELP US,” yelled Richie frantically as everyone in the ER waiting room turned to stare. “Help us, please, my...he’s dying.” _

_ Everything after that was one big blur to him. Nurses swooped in and whisked Eddie off immediately, giving Richie a sense of relief, but also a weird numbness throughout his entire body as he realized that it was no longer up to him what happened. All he could really do was sit in the waiting room with his friends as they tried to engage with him in any way they could, but he could barely focus on them. Minutes turned into hours, questions were asked by hospital staff, and not a single person bothered to correct the friendly, young nurse who just assumed that Richie must be Eddie’s family member. _

_ At last, at long last, after hours of waiting, a doctor came out to the waiting room and delivered the most simultaneously wonderful and upsetting news Richie had ever heard in his life. _

_ “He made it through surgery, but to be honest, it’s anyone’s guess whether he’ll pull through.” _

*****

The ringing of his phone from the bathroom sink tore Richie out of his thoughts. It had been almost two weeks since Eddie had been in the hospital, and in all of that time, Richie had only ever left him for a couple of hours at a time to shower at the inn and get in a few winks of sleep. He just didn’t have it in him to be away from Eddie’s bedside for much longer than that, even though the other man was still very deeply comatose and his friends insisted that he would be ok alone for a little bit. 

What the fuck did they know. Nobody knew how conscious Eddie was, not even the doctors. He might be scared in that ugly hospital room by himself. 

Richie turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist as he glanced over at his phone to read the caller ID. He half expected it to be his publicist, who was probably super fucking pissed off that Richie hadn’t contacted him even once since he’d arrived in Derry. He steeled himself for a screaming lecture about tour dates and refunds and money that was being lost because of him, but as it turned out, he needn’t have worried. It was just Beverly. 

“What?” he said into the phone as he used one hand to wipe the steam off the mirror. 

“Good morning to you too,” said Bev, ignoring the gruff tone she’d been greeted with. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Like a fuckin baby,” mumbled Richie, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache he could feel coming on. “Are you there with him?” The other Losers had been staying with Eddie in shifts whenever Richie wasn’t there, which was pretty much the price they had no choice but to pay if they wanted Richie to ever leave the room at all. 

“I just got here,” replied Beverly. “Mike stayed with him last night.”

“How’s Eds?”

“He’s the same, honey. Listen, are you going to be here soon? The rep from that company is here and he says they can start the first session today, if you want. They have the equipment ready to go and all.”

Richie suddenly felt wide awake. His stomach fluttered and he nearly crashed headfirst into the bathroom door as he scrambled into his room to start finding his clothes. “Yes...YES, I’ll be there in half an hour,” he said excitedly as he tried to put his pants on singlehandedly and tripped backwards onto the bed for his effort. “Tell them not to fucking move, I’m coming.” He hung up the phone and hastily pulled on his clothes, fastening half the buttons on his shirt wrong in his hurry, not that he gave a flying fuck. He ran his fingers through his hair, put on his shoes and glasses, grabbed his phone and flew out of the inn like a bat out of hell, practically screeching out of the parking lot in his rental car.

_ If this doesn’t work like they said I’m going to go absolutely apeshit on somebody’s ass, _ he vowed to himself as he drove back to the hospital, nervous as fuck but also filled with a sense of hope he hadn’t felt in forever. 

****

_ “Richie.” _

_ Beverly’s voice broke through the haze of his thoughts. The group of them had been sitting in the emergency waiting room for hours, waiting for any bit of news on Eddie’s condition. Richie had been sitting bolt upright for approximately all of those hours, his fingers nervously picking at a loose thread on his shirt as he tried to ignore the fact that said shirt was covered in Eddie’s blood. _

_ “What?” he managed to choke out, turning to Bev and trying his best to focus on her. _

_ “I really hate to bring this up right now, but don’t you think we should try to contact his wife?” _

_ Richie felt his eyes narrow at her. “No, Bev, I don’t think we should do that at all,” he snapped, his words coming out more mean sounding than he really intended. He saw Bev exchange glances with Ben and Bill before she turned her attention back on him. _

_ “It’s just...eventually they’re going to want us to start filling out paperwork, and they’re going to want to know who his next of kin is, and..” _

_ “Not that it’s any of your business, but they’re separated,” retorted Richie. _

_ Bev looked taken aback. “Wait, what?” _

_ “Really?” said Ben. _

_ “Yes,” replied Richie. “He told me the other day, when we were upstairs together at the inn.” At the time he didn’t think Eddie had meant to tell him that, not really. They’d just been having a casual conversation, and the fact that he and Myra had had a huge fight before he left for Derry that had been the final nail in the coffin of a marriage that had really been over for years had just kind of been slipped in there. A nugget of backstory in the midst of two friends catching up on each other’s lives. _

_ Now, after remembering what he’d seen in the Deadlights, Richie wondered if the passing on of that information had really been entirely incidental on Eddie’s part. _

_ “Still,” insisted Bev. “If they’re legally married we really should-“ _

_ “NO,” snapped Richie. “Look, I’m sorry, I know I sound like an asshole to you, but trust me, that sham of a marriage is all but dead. The last thing Eddie would want is her making more medical decisions for him, ok? Just...if anyone asks, he has no family. I’m….we’re his family. Ok? Please?” He glanced from one friend to another, his eyes pleading with them to help him out here. One by one, the other Losers nodded in agreement, even though Beverly still looked unsure. _

_ “Ok,” she said with a reluctant nod. “For now, ok.” _

_ Days passed, but Eddie still just lay there, his body slowly healing but his mind lost to some irretrievable place. The doctors said that was to be expected, and Richie knew, logically, that they were right, that Eddie must have sustained some bad head injuries when he’d been thrown by that motherfucking clown that Richie sincerely hoped was burning in hell somewhere. Not, of course, that he or the Losers had told them that’s what had happened. Their official story was that Eddie had tripped and fallen on a hike, and whether the hospital staff quite believed them or not, nobody had contradicted them so far. Hell, no one had seemed to fact check the assumption that Richie was his boyfriend or fiancé or whatever, and he certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. He got the feeling that Saint Juniper’s wasn’t exactly the top hospital on the map. He sometimes got a really weird vibe from it, like he wouldn’t be shocked to learn that they were conducting otherworldly science experiments in the basement or something. But, for the moment, they were keeping Eds alive and that was all that mattered. _

_ He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sight of his friend in that bed, laying still as a doll and looking so small against the plethora of machines that engulfed him. For the first few days he barely left Eddie’s side, parking a chair as close to the bed as he could get without actually being in it with him. Eventually he had allowed Bill to convince him to leave for a few hours to eat and sleep (with the profuse promise that he would keep an eye on Eddie in Richie’s absence), but as soon as he woke up he was right back at Eddie’s bedside, holding one motionless hand in his own as he traced soft lines in the skin with his thumb. _

_ That was what he was doing one dreary, rainy day when the door to Eddie’s room slowly creaked open. Richie assumed it was one of the nurses or perhaps one of the Losers arriving to visit with them, so he didn’t bother to look up. Only when an unfamiliar voice cut through the usual hospital room noise with a “Excuse me,” did he glance up. _

_ “Yeah?” he said, critically looking over their unexpected visitor. It was an older gentleman he had never seen before, and, judging by his pressed suit and the briefcase he was holding, Richie assumed he wasn’t a doctor. He swallowed back a lump that suddenly started forming in his throat as it occurred to him that maybe this guy was here to make him fill out paperwork or ask for proof of familial connection or something. _

_ The man cleared his throat. “I’m Nathanial Monroe,” he said, sticking out one hand in introduction. “I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.” _

_ Richie glanced warily at the offered hand. “That depends entirely on what you want, my dude.” _

_ Mr. Monroe smiled. “Actually, I’m here to help you out. If you’ll let me.” _

_ “You’re not my type,” deadpanned Richie as he dismissed the older man and turned his attention back to Eddie. _

_ The man chuckled. “Jokes aside, what would you say if I told you there was a way you could see him, speak with him, even touch him,” he said, nodding over at Eddie. “In familiar surroundings, out of the hospital and away from the machines?” _

_ Richie’s hand paused in the middle of brushing a strand of hair off Eddie’s forehead. “I’d say you’re a real asshole for coming in here and saying something like that to a grieving person.” _

_ The door opened then, and all four Losers stepped into the room one by one, trying to be quiet about it even though the staff never really seemed to care how many visitors were in the room at any given time. They all gave Mr. Monroe a strange look before looking to Richie to silently ask what was going on. _

_ “This guy was just leaving,” said Richie in response to the unasked question, his grip on Eddie’s band tightening ever so slightly in protection. _

_ The visitor turned to address the newcomers. “Your friend’s attitude is a fair one, to be sure, but if I could just have a moment of your time, I’d like to make a proposition.” He dug around in his suit pocket and fished out a small business card, which he first offered to Richie, but which Ben ended up taking when Richie refused to acknowledge it. _

_ “TCKR Industries?” Ben read off the card as the other Losers gathered behind him to see it too. _

_ “Pronounced like Tucker, yes,” nodded Mr. Monroe. “We are an upstart business that specializes in scientific breakthroughs in medicine, particularly in neurological conditions. We actually conduct all of our research upstairs on the top floor, where we have a number of labs and equipment.” _

_ “So this is like, a research hospital?” said Bill thoughtfully. _

_ “You could say that, yes,” replied the older man. “There are several branches of Saint Juniper’s scattered throughout the country. All of our research funding comes from private donors. Right now, our latest project is a sort of virtual reality therapy designed to aid elderly patients with degenerative brain diseases. Basically, a complete and immersive simulation in surroundings that might be familiar to them and provide them with a bit of relief and a way to keep the mind active.” _

_ “But Eddie isn’t an Alzheimer’s patient,” Ben pointed out. _

_ “No, of course not. He has, however, sustained quite substantial head injuries from what I’ve seen of his chart,” replied Mr. Monroe, opening his briefcase and pulling out a file that turned out to be a copy of Eddie’s record since he’d been admitted. “I see here a Mr. Richard Tozier is listed as a first contact. Am I right in assuming that’s you?” he asked, turning his attention to Richie. _

_ “Still waiting for you to get to your actual point,” said Richie sharply. _

_ “My point is that when he wakes up, he may or may not suffer from memory problems, and if one of you were able to work with him via our program while he’s still under, it could be greatly beneficial to him in the long run.” _

_ “He’s not your fucking science experiment,” snapped Richie. _

_ “I would never suggest such a thing at all!” Mr. Monroe assured him. “This program is still in its very early stages, that’s true, but I can personally assure you that, so long as it’s administered in tightly controlled conditions, it has proven to be perfectly safe. I feel that Eddie would make a perfect candidate, especially considering that the version being worked on at this branch has been coded to perfectly simulate an idyllic version of Derry. It can be easily custom skinned to mimic any time period you like.” _

_ Nobody said anything for several tense seconds. The looks on the other Losers’ faces ranged from unsure to downright baffled as they processed all of this information but Richie, in spite of himself, found his thoughts drifting in a not entirely negative direction the more Monroe spoke. _

_ “What was that you were saying before about talking to him and touching him and all that jazz?” he asked, his arm nervously intertwining with Eddie’s motionless one. “That’s like...a possibility with this stupid thing?” _

_ Monroe smiled at him warmly, clearly sensing that he now had his attention. “Quite possible. It’s a simple procedure, really. We would simply attach an electronic device to both of you and send your consciousness into the program for a limited amount of time. In most cases we recommend only one to two hours at a time, just to be on the safe side and protect the brain.” _

_ “But I could see him and shit, right?” prodded Richie impatiently. “I could...I could actually feel him? Like he’s there?” _

_ “Certainly. It’s possible he may not recognize you at first, given that we’ve never performed this procedure on a patient like him before. But ideally, yes. You would interact with him just as you would in the flesh.” _

_ “Let’s get to the really important question, what does this cost?” said Mike. _

_ “Yeah,” added Ben. “I doubt the average insurance company is going to cover this.” _

_ “Oh, no, the program would be free of charge,” insisted Monroe. “Every test we perform is useful data to us. Our eventual goal is to create a centralized cloud where people can elect to upload themselves and leave their bodies behind entirely if they choose. We’re obviously years away from achieving that, but the baby steps come from somewhere.” _

_ Everyone glanced at each other uncertainly. Richie looked over at Eddie, taking in the sight of him almost hidden away by all of the tubes and devices that were attached to him in every direction. What he wouldn’t give to be able to just look at his face, unencumbered by all the machinery, perfect just the way it was. To hear his voice, even just once. _

_ Mr. Monroe cleared his throat. “You think about it,” he said, crossing over to a Richie and giving him another copy of his business card, which Richie hesitantly accepted this time. “Give me a call when you’ve decided, and we can set you up for a series of seven sessions. And please, accept my sincerest well wishes to Eddie.” He gave Richie an awkward pat on the arm and strolled out of the room as quickly as he’d come, leaving the Losers to look at each other in bewilderment. _

_ “Wow,” said Bill, letting out a low whistle. _

_ “That’s a lot to take in,” agreed Bev. _

_ “I wanna do it.” _

_ Everyone turned to stare at Richie, who had barely recognized the words coming out of his own mouth until he’d already said them. _

_ “You can’t possibly be serious,” said Ben. “That guy was straight out of an episode of the friggin Twilight Zone.” _

_ “I agree,” said Beverly insistently. “This sounds like the kind of shit Bill would write in one of his books. No offense, Bill.” Bill sneered and gave her the finger in response. _

_ “It’s an awfully big risk to take,” Mike pointed out. _

_ “Maybe,” said Richie, irritation rising within him with each passing second as he prepared to argue his case. “But as I seem to recall, not a single one of you was this concerned about Eddie’s wellbeing when you were willing to leave him alone to die in the fucking sewers, were you?” _

_ “Richie, come on,” replied Beverly with an abashed expression on her face. “That’s not f-“ _

_ “You’re motherfucking RIGHT it’s not fair,” snapped Richie. “It’s not fair that any of this happened at all, it’s not fair that we lost 27 years worth of memories of each other, it’s not fair that we’ve already lost Stan and we might lose Eds, it’s not fair...GOD it’s not fucking fair that the one man I’ve ever loved...yes, I said LOVED, is laying here in a hospital because that FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT CLOWN JUST DECIDED TO SKEWER HIM BECAUSE OF ME, TO TORTURE ME. IT’S MY FAULT.” Richie was yelling now, feeling hot tears stream down his face as he let loose all the torturous thoughts that had been brewing in his head for days. _

_ “It should have been me,” he choked out, burying his face in Eddie’s arm and sobbing. He felt his friends gather around him, enveloping him in a group hug as he poured his heart out in front of the only group of people in the entire world who would really understand. _

_ “I could have pushed him away in time, it could have been me that It attacked instead of him. It should have been me.” _

_ “Richie, it’s not your fault,” said Bev soothingly as she gently stroked his hair. “It’s not fair but it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.” _

_ Richie sniffed and raised his head up, lifting one hand to remove his glasses and rub at his tear filled eyes. “But I have to fix it. I have to tell him I’m sorry, somehow,” he said in between hiccuping breaths. “I’m desperate enough to do anything to talk to him, and...and as much as I think this whole idea is really fucking stupid and probably won’t work, I have to try.” _

_ Nobody argued this time. They just kept a tight, supportive huddle around him as he pulled out the old man’s business card and his phone and began to dial. _

*****

“Now, remember,” said the friendly nurse as she carefully fitted two electronic nodes on either side of Richie’s head. “Don’t expect too much out of this first session, ok? The techs have skinned the program code to mimic Derry as it would have looked in the late 1980s, but the chance is still high that he will be very confused about where he is, or might not know who you are.”

“Oh, I’m always thoroughly prepared for disappointment,” Richie quipped, his mood significantly uplifted for the first time in weeks. “I mean, usually I _ am _ the disappointment. I’m a comedian.”

The nurse smiled. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I assure you, I’m definitely a comedian. I’m sure you haven’t seen my latest Netflix special, _ Drunken Online Shopping. _No one did, it broke records for least number of streams ever.” 

Richie let the words pour out of his mouth like a waterfall, even though he knew nobody was amused. He was trying his best to mask how nervous he was. The program would only allow him seven total sessions with Eddie, and he’d never needed anything so badly in his life as he needed for this first session to go well. He didn’t want to waste a single moment he had with him. 

“Are we ready to go?” the nurse asked her colleague, who was at Eddie’s bedside fitting him with matching nodes, having already taken his vitals beforehand. 

“All systems are go,” the male nurse replied with a nod. “Richie, in a few moments we’re going to switch the computer system on and you’re essentially going to leave your body for a bit. It will just feel like when you dream. Ok?”

“Let’s get this motherfuckin show on the road,” Richie replied, adjusting himself comfortably back in his chair as he watched his friends settle themselves around the room. 

He didn’t remember the medical staff turning the machine on, or his initial arrival inside of the simulation. The next thing he knew, he was smack dab in the middle of Main Street, which looked exactly the same way it had looked back when he was thirteen years old, right down to the movie posters outside of the arcade. 

He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected out of being plopped in the middle of a giant game of The Sims, but he was actually pleasantly surprised to find that his body still worked pretty much the same way as it did in the real world. If he didn’t know for sure he wasn’t on earth, per se, he probably might not have been able to guess it. _ Fuck, I guess those tech nerds really are onto something after all, huh. _ He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a nearby shop window just then and realized that not _ everything _ still looked like it was 1989 again. _ Christ, asshole, you look like a fucking mess. If Eddie doesn’t recognize you he’s going to run screaming in the other direction. _

_ But he has to know me. Right? He just has to. _

He didn’t let himself think about what would happen if Eddie didn’t recognize him as he frantically wandered around the simulated town, peering into every building he passed but not finding his treasure in any of them. When he finally, at long last with only precious few minutes left to spare, found Eddie at the Townhouse, he was initially so fucking relieved to see him that it didn’t dawn on him right away that the other man was looking at him like he’d just grown three dicks out of his face. 

“What the fuck, man?” said Eddie irritably after Richie had practically plowed down the inn’s door in desperation. “Your mom never teach you how to open a friggin door?”

Richie couldn’t reply right away. All he could do was stand there and stare like an idiot. There he was, there was his Eds, perfect and whole, with not a single medical device in sight, save for his ever present inhaler. He wanted to badly to go over to him and hug him as tightly as he could, but the fear of scaring him away stopped him. 

He was so completely overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions that it was all he could manage to do to keep in his tears when he eventually realized that Eddie didn’t, in fact, know who he was. He’d thought he was prepared for that possibility, but actually facing it was an entire emotional rollercoaster, especially when it was quite clear that Eddie was somehow experiencing the echoes of pain from his physical body’s many injuries and there was shit all Richie could do to comfort him or make it better for him.

In a sick sort of way, the insistent beeping that indicated the end of his session was almost a welcome relief from the entirely new hell that was existing in a dimension with an Eddie who didn’t have the faintest clue how much Richie loved him. 

“I found him but...he doesn’t...he doesn’t remember…” he whispered incredulously to the Losers when he came out of the simulation at last. 

“Oh no, honey,” said Beverly, wrapping him in a comforting hug as the men gathered around him placed their hands reassuringly on his arms and shoulders. “We did know this was possible.”

“Yeah but I thought...I thought there was no way he could forget again..” Richie protested. “I thought seeing him in there would be comforting, but I feel like it was almost worse.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that repeat exposure will make things considerably easier,” piped up Mr. Monroe, whom Richie hadn’t even realized was in the room. “For both of you. In fact, the more you interact with him, the more likely he is to start piecing things together.” The old man opened the door to the room as the nurses carried the program equipment out. “For your next session, just remember, he’s still in there. He just needs to be nudged in the right direction to be brought home.” He gave them a curt nod as he left, closing the door behind him and leaving the Losers alone with each other and their thoughts. 

“It’ll be better next time, Richie,” said Bev reassuringly. “Now that you know what to expect.”

Richie got up and dragged his chair back over to Eddie’s bedside, settling into it as he took one of the other man’s hands into his own. He brought it up to his lips, giving it a tiny kiss before setting it back down. He then leaned in, using his free hand to gently stroke Eddie’s hair. 

“I’ll see you again,” he whispered softly into Eddie’s ear, keeping his voice as low as possible so he could have a private moment that his friends couldn’t hear. “Next time. I’ll find a way to make you remember me until you remember so much you get sick and tired of me and call me an asshole and tell me to go fuck myself, and I’m going to be so happy I’m gonna cry like a little baby bitch. I’m going to make damn fucking sure you come home to me. I promise.”

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been my favorite chapter to write so far. Tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff ^_^ Enjoy, and dont forget to let me know what you think!

_ “Richie, I did it! I killed It, it’s over!” _

_ Richie gradually returned to his body, the haziness of the Deadlight’s spell fading from him in pieces as he began to realize that the things he’d just seen...the wonderful that elated him and the nightmarish that tore into his soul...none of them were real. The weight of Eddie on top of him and the sight of his face gazing down at him, however, was very real indeed. Eddie’s expression was one of pure pride, the grin on his face promising a happiness that Richie very much wanted to grab onto and never let go, if only they could make it out of this dark and dingy dungeon first.  _

_ His mind floated briefly back to the time, so many years ago, when Beverly had been the one in the Deadlights and Ben her savior. He didn’t know for sure if Eddie had just saved him in the exact same way, but even if not, he could sense that the intentions were the same. He licked his lips, one hand automatically reaching up toward Eddie’s neck before he could stop to think about it. _

_ He let himself have one moment of happiness in the middle of the chaos. Just one.  _

_ And then the clown pierced his soul.  _

_ “Richie…” groaned Eddie weakly as the hope drained from Richie’s body…. _

The obnoxious chiming of his ringtone jolted Richie out of his nightmare. Still filled with the emotions of his unconscious state, he angrily reached his hand over to the nightstand and knocked the phone clear across the room, which did nothing to stop the noise but did make him feel a tiny bit better. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he yanked the covers off of himself and got out of bed to retrieve the insistent device. He glanced down at the screen, hoping as always that it might be the hospital calling to tell him Eddie had made a miraculous recovery and could go home. 

Nope. It was his agent. He debated just letting it go to voicemail but decided it would probably be easier to just take his berating now and get it over with so he could concentrate on the rest of his day. 

“The fuck you want, Scott?” he said into the phone as he carried it back over to the bed and flopped down heavily onto his back. 

“The fuck you mean the fuck I want??” the voice on the other end screeched into his ear. “You said you were gonna be out of town for a couple of days. It’s been almost two weeks, Richie. TWO WEEKS. You’ve missed five dates! I have venue managers breathing down my ass! We’ve had to refund so much money. Someone is going to end up killing you and if it’s not any of those people it’s gonna be me.”

Richie rubbed tiredly at his eyes before sliding on his glasses. “So what I’m hearing is that you’re a little upset.”

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

“Look, I’d love to have this heart to heart with you but I am going through some absolute shit right now,” said Richie calmly as he stared up at the ceiling, the white hoodie he’d stolen from one of Eddie’s suitcases tucked up under one arm like an Eds scented teddy bear. “Frankly, I don’t want to be fucking bothered by any of this bullshit. So as the guy who works for me, here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna contact the venues for the rest of the tour dates and you’re gonna explain that Richie Tozier is dealing with a family emergency and that he doesn’t have the time, patience or crayons to stand up in front of people and tell someone else’s jizz jokes at the moment. And then you’re going to say that the tour will be rescheduled for a later time, and that no, I don’t give a flying goddamn fuck about contracts or anything else and that they can suck my dick if they don’t like it. But like….say it in a nice way. Think you can handle that?”

“We’re gonna be in so much shit,” Scott protested. 

“I don’t care, I’ll deal with it later.”

“But..”

“Kiss my left ass cheek, Scott,” said Richie firmly as he hung up the phone and tossed it back onto the nightstand. He knew he hadn’t been entirely fair, that people’s jobs were hinging on him, and he did feel  _ sort _ of bad about it, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care too much. He wouldn’t be the first person of notoriety to disappear from the public eye for a while for personal reasons. His career would be fine, and even if it wasn’t, who gave a fuck as long as Eddie came back to him?

Which he would, Richie had firmly decided. He’d had a couple of days to think long and hard about how the first VR session had gone. Ok, so Eddie didn’t know him. That was bad, yes. But, it wasn’t like his memory was  _ completely _ gone. He did remember his own identity, after all. He remembered that he was from Derry. He must, on some level, remember that he had come to Derry for a reason. Which meant that memories of the Losers, and most importantly, Richie, must be buried down inside of him somewhere. Maybe that old bat Monroe was right, that the more Eddie saw him the more he would remember. 

_ So stop being a dramatic little crying bitch when you see him today, _ Richie ordered himself. Today was the day of the second scheduled session, and he was bound and determined not to fuck it up this time. He promised himself that he wasn’t going to make it weird. He would find Eddie and just...talk to him. Enjoy being with him. Not waste any time being frustrated over what he couldn’t have right then and, instead, focus on being in the moment before it was gone. 

Which, he reminded himself as he showered and pulled on fresh clothes, may be easier said than done. He’d never been that great at keeping promises he made to himself. 

*****

Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, bright light streaming through the window of his Townhouse room to cheerily illuminate every corner and alleviate the bothersome anxiety that darkness always gave him. If there was one thing he couldn’t fucking stand, it was the dark. He was pretty sure he was the only forty year old man on the planet that still slept with a nightlight on. 

He yawned and stretched, sitting up in bed as the last remnants of dreams dissipated from his mind. A dark house. A Pomeranian dog. Someone gently tugging on his wrist. Faces he couldn’t recognize because they were all a blur. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite make them come into focus. It suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t even remember going to bed. 

_ I’ve got to see a doctor about this blackout bullshit.  _ He frowned at the wall and tried to remember something, anything, from the last...wait, how long had he been asleep? Hours?  _ Days?? _

_ Ok Eddie, calm your tits,  _ he tried to reassure himself.  _ What’s the last thing you remember? You checked in...wait, no. You didn’t check in officially because there was nobody at the desk so...that’s right, you met that guy. Richie. The comedian. He stole the key for you and then….fuck, you basically collapsed in his arms like a damsel in distress. Fucking smooth, jackass.  _

_ Wait, why do I care? Fuck that guy, I’ll probably never even see him again and he won’t remember me even if I did. Not that it matters if he saw me being embarrassing, obviously.  _

_ You probably have a brain tumor though, you need to get that checked out.  _

He slipped out of bed and stood up, gingerly patting his stomach as he remembered the searing pain he’d felt there earlier. It still kind of hurt, but the pain was duller. Definitely present, but bearable. At least his headache was gone. He reached instinctively over to the nightstand for his phone. He slid the screen open with his thumb, checking for any missed messages from…..wait, who was he here for? He’d come back home for some reason, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what that reason might be, even though he very clearly recalled driving there. 

No messages. Damn it. 

He rubbed his hand tiredly over his face and took a deep, calming breath, in and out. Maybe what he needed was a nice, long walk in the fresh morning air to clear his head. At the very least it would wake him up, and he might even get a clue as to what he came there for. He reached for his luggage, pulling out a clean shirt and pants, a jacket, and his comfortable walking sneakers. He got dressed quickly, clipping a fanny pack around his waist that contained, among other things, his inhaler, a first aid kit, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer because the world was a disgusting place and he liked to be prepared at all times. 

_ Alright, Derry, you piece of shit, let’s do this.  _

At first, he just casually strolled down the street, past the Townhouse and the various side roads that contained the kind of quaint old houses that small town Maine sported in spades. He took deep breaths, feeling cleansed with each one. He’d almost forgotten how pure the air was back home. In New York the air was fucking filthy, and he often spent large portions of his day trying his best to not think about the amount of dirt and pollutants he was breathing in. Here it was just the opposite. He felt better with each step he took, his mysterious ailments fading from his mind as he just enjoyed being outdoors, alone with his thoughts in the early morning stillness. 

It wasn’t until he turned onto Derry’s Main Street that he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia so strong that it very nearly caused him to trip over his own feet. The street looked the same as it had ever looked, and that was exactly the point. It looked  _ precisely  _ as it had always looked, and if he didn’t know better he could swear he was right back in his childhood. His strides slowed down as he took in the scenery around him. There were the same old storefronts, unchanged for the last twenty-seven years. The bookstore. The antique shop. The toy store with the display windows he’d always coveted at Christmas, and the pharmacy where his mother would always send him to pick up his various prescriptions. All of them still there, still standing tall and inviting, as if they had been waiting for his return all this time. 

As he kept walking, staring in a nostalgic reverie at the sights he hadn’t seen in so long, images flickered through his brain like an old Super 8 film reel, bits and pieces of things that must have been childhood memories he could barely recall. He saw himself riding his bicycle down this very same street, flanked on all sides by other children, all of them as familiar to him as family but none of them clear enough to really recognize. Most of them were just a blur, but he felt like he could recall a boy with dark hair and glasses by his side. The boy’s features were just as foggy as the others, and before Eddie could really try to focus on the mental image it was gone, blowing away from his brain like dandelion dust in the breeze. 

He stopped outside of the ice cream shop and pushed the door open, his hands carrying out the task with the muscle memory learned from doing the same so many times in his younger years. The inside of the shop was just as unchanged as its exterior. The same old counter stood against the far wall next to the display case full of every flavor of ice cream a person could possibly want. The same blue and white tables with matching chairs took up the rest of the floor space, and the same posters of delicious looking ice cream cones still decorated the walls. 

The only thing that wasn’t the same was the person behind the counter. Back then it had always been pleasant old Mr. Berry, who always had a smile and extra toppings for him and always inquired after his health and how his mom was doing. Now it was just a random teenager who stood at his post stoically, staring straight ahead without acknowledging his entrance. He reminded Eddie of a non playable character in a videogame. 

Eddie stepped up to the display case and looked inside. He had no love for most of the flavors in there. He never had, because many of them contained shit he was allergic to anyway. He only cared if they still had plain old vanilla, which really was his favorite, as lame as that may be. 

“What’ll it be?” asked the teenage employee. 

“A vanilla cone and a cookies and cream cone, please,” replied Eddie, his brain not quite registering what he’d said until the employee pushed the two cones across the counter to him, seemingly by magic since Eddie swore he didn’t even see him scoop them. 

“Th...thanks,” he said, blinking his eyes in confusion as he reached for his wallet. 

“No currency required,” said the employee, pushing the ice creams a little closer. Eddie didn’t argue, since the whole exchange was kind of starting to freak him out. He just took his treats in each hand and exited the shop, stepping back out onto the idyllic Derry street. 

_ First of all, what the actual fuck, _ he thought as he stared down at the two cones in his hands. He had no idea why the hell he had ordered two. He only wanted the vanilla, and he had zero use for the cookies and cream. Something nagged at the back of his mind, a thought that he couldn’t quite bring into focus. He knew cookies and cream was someone’s favorite, he was absolutely sure of it, but fuck if he could remember. 

_ You’re fuckin losing it, Kaspbrak.  _ He walked down the street with his ice cream cones, stopping when he reached a wooden bench on the sidewalk outside of a small flower shop. He sat down, setting down the cookies and cream carefully beside him. He slathered his hands thoroughly with the hand sanitizer from his fanny pack and started taking small licks of the vanilla as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened Safari. 

_ Richie T...To….goddammit how the fuck do you spell Tozier.  _ He frowned at the search bar, which really should have been helping him out with a handy search suggestion but which, for some reason, was refusing to do so at the moment. 

_ Richie Tojer _ , he finally typed in, looking around him as if he were expecting someone to be watching him and judging. He couldn’t figure out why exactly he was so stuck on the man he’d met earlier. He’d just seemed so damn familiar, and it bothered Eddie that he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was the fact that he was supposedly famous. The name certainly sounded familiar enough. Eddie thought maybe he’d even seen the guy on TV before, maybe. But he wasn’t  _ sure _ , and it bugged the shit out of him. 

He also couldn’t get the dude’s jawline out of his head, but that was neither here nor there, obviously, and had nothing to do with it. Nothing, ok???

Without a results page to serve as a bridge, a video popped up on his screen and began playing. He decided not to question whether it was his phone or his brain that was fucked up, since his curiosity was currently piqued by what he was watching. 

“ _ Ladies and gentlemen,”  _ an announcer’s voice boomed over shots of a packed audience excitedly stirring in their seats.  _ “Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier!” _

The audience broke into thunderous applause as Richie casually entered the stage and walked up to the microphone. Eddie let his eyes roam over him, feeling free to do so now that the man wasn’t physically in front of him to see him do it. There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about him, really. He looked exactly like anyone would expect a middle aged stand-up comedian to look like, but Eddie still couldn’t quite explain the weird butterfly feeling he got in his stomach when he looked at Richie’s face. 

“ _ So my girlfriend caught me masturbating to her friend’s Facebook page…”  _

Eddie felt his cheeks flush because he hadn’t expected a jerking off joke within the first ten seconds of the video, and even worse, now he was imagining Richie jerking off. He started to eat his ice cream faster, hoping it might cool him down. He let the video keep playing, not really paying attention to the actual jokes because he was too busy memorizing every curve of Richie’s face. His material wasn’t all that different from the hundreds of similar acts Eddie had ever seen on television. He couldn’t explain why, but it felt like they weren’t even his own jokes. 

_ Regardless, he might be lame but he’s not ugl- _

“Watcha watching?” said a voice from behind him. Eddie jumped, scrambling to turn off his screen, but his finger had barely found the button on the side of his phone when he caught a glimpse of who it was who had snuck up on him. 

“NOTHING,” he practically shrieked, settling for shoving his phone under one leg and hoping that would muffle the sound coming from the video that he hoped to fucking God Richie hadn’t noticed. He turned to face the man, who looked considerably more put together this time than he had the last time they’d met. He cleaned up nice. NOT that Eddie cared. 

“Really?” said Richie, an amused smile playing on his lips as he leaned over the back of the bench. “Cause that guilty look on your face means it’s either government secrets or porn.” Eddie felt hot again and tugged nervously at his shirt collar. “It’s porn, isn’t it? Why Edward Kaspbrak, I am both shocked and delighted. How dirty is it? Are there bear suits?”

“It’s not porn, dickwad,” Eddie blurted out before he could filter himself, not even giving himself a moment to be pleased that the other man had remembered his name. “Could you please keep your voice d-“ He didn’t finish his sentence because his phone chose that moment to fall out from under his leg and onto the ground, displaying the video for anyone to see. 

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” groaned Richie as he walked around the bench the rest of the way to pick the phone up while Eddie silently wished for death. “Honestly, I would rather think you were watching bear suit porn.”

“That might actually be more entertaining than jokes about your girlfriend catching you beating your meat,” retorted Eddie as be snatched his phone back. He regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth. Not because they were rude, but because he’d just said the phrase “beating your meat” to this guy like they were old frat bros instead of a nerdy risk analyst and the celebrity he’d literally just met and had been all but mentally climbing like a tree not even two minutes earlier. To say he wanted to disappear straight into the ground would be the understatement of the century. 

Richie didn’t seem to mind the outburst, though. In fact, he looked amused, a smile spreading across his lips as the phone left his hand. “Well, you’re not wrong, but in my defense, it’s all lies. I mean, I do jerk off quite a bit, but the girlfriend is entirely fictional. I don’t even write my own material.”

“I fuckin knew it,” said Eddie, proud of himself for being able to discern how fake Richie’s act was. He was also mentally filing away the information that Richie’s girlfriend was nonexistent, even if he couldn’t quite explain why he felt this was an important detail to know. He looked away from Richie’s eyes, which were looking at him curiously.

“So um…” Eddie murmured, desperate for anything to break the feeling of awkwardness that threatened to consume him whole. His eyes landed on the uneaten ice cream cone still standing upright on the bench beside him, which for some reason didn’t look even remotely melted despite the fact that the sun was shining bright in the sky. “I, uh….they gave me an extra ice cream at the shop by mistake,” he said, picking up the cone and holding it out in front of Richie like an offering. “You want it?”

Richie’s expression turned from amused to surprisingly warm as he reached out to take the treat without hesitation. “Aw, thanks dude,” he said gratefully, settling himself on the bench next to Eddie. He was sitting so close that their shoulders were almost touching, and Eddie felt his heart skip a beat. Probably because of an undiagnosed heart murmur and not because of Richie, but even so. “How’d you know cookies and cream was my favorite?” asked Richie in between bites.

A weird feeling he couldn’t explain washed over Eddie at these words, one that he didn’t think had anything to do with Richie, but rather with that nagging thought from earlier outside of the ice cream shop. A piece of a memory floated to the surface of his mind, a picture of himself, much younger, standing outside on Main Street, holding one cone in each hand and waiting for...something. Someone? Who? He shook his head. It wasn’t important. His eyes drifted back over to Richie, who, it turned out, did not lick his ice cream like a normal person. He put the whole tip of it into his mouth instead and kind of sucked on it, which of course was the very thing that caused Eddie to have to look away immediately before he choked on his own. 

“Just got lucky I guess,” he said in reply. 

_ Jesus, stop looking at his lips, he’s gonna think you’re a fucking weirdo.  _ He delicately ate the rest of his treat, careful not to eat the parts of the cone his hands had been touching. Hand sanitizer only killed 99.9% of germs, after all. He glanced over at Richie again, only to find the other man already looking over at him mirthfully. 

“What?” said Eddie defensively. 

“Nothing, you’ve just got a little ice cream right….here,” replied Richie, leaning over and placing one hand on Eddie’s face before he could react. The other man gently wiped away the mess on Eddie’s cheek with his thumb, and as nice as that felt, the idea of God only knew how many germs living on the surface of that hand made Eddie’s hair curl. 

“Oh my god dude, germs!” exclaimed Eddie, whipping out the sanitizer from his fanny pack. He took Richie’s hand off of his face with a twinge of regret and poured a dollop into the other man’s hand. 

“I’m confused, are you worried about getting germs from me or me getting them from you?” asked Richie in amusement as he glanced down at his hand and started rubbing the alcohol solution in. 

“I’ve seen your act, I don’t know where your hand has been.”

“Not around my dick in at  _ least  _ several hours.”

Eddie was trying to come up with a smart retort to that when a distant beeping sound suddenly rang out from thin air. He glanced around, suddenly apprehensive as he remembered that the last time he’d heard that sound, it had been immediately followed by a blackout. 

“Richie?” he said quietly, trying to sound less scared than he felt. “Please tell me I’m not the only one who hears that shit.” 

He thought he heard a muttered “Goddammit” under the other man’s breath. He felt Richie’s hand reach for his own and cover it reassuringly, but before he really had time to register it, the enveloping white light engulfed him once more. 

*****

This time, when Richie came out of the simulation, he adjusted much more smoothly, his brain reconnecting with his body within several seconds as he looked around the room to get his bearings. Besides the nurses and Mr. Monroe and, of course, Eddie, the only other person in the room was Bill, who sat up in his chair as soon as he saw that Richie was awake. 

“Hey man, how did it go this time?” he asked eagerly. 

“Better,” replied Richie. He really meant it. It hadn’t lasted as long as he would have preferred, but at least he actually got some meaningful interaction with Eddie. “It still took me fucking forever to find him. Isn’t there a way you could at least drop us into the same location?” he asked, turning his attention to Mr. Monroe and one of the nurses, who were busy across the room comparing data from a laptop computer screen. “I feel like I waste so much time just wandering around aimlessly looking for him.”

“We’d like to, but we’re unfortunately still working out the kinks on that bit,” said Mr. Monroe apologetically as a second nurse gently removed Richie’s nodes. “Other than that, how did it feel? Did you notice any glitches?”

“No,” said Richie. “I mean, other than the fact that every time the simulation ends he freaks out. We can hear the noise of the computer timer and it scares him.”

“An unfortunate side effect, but he should get used to it after a while. Was there anything else that concerned you?” asked Mr. Monroe kindly. 

Richie frowned as a nagging question rose to the tip of his tongue. “Could I just ask one question?”

“Certainly.”

“How does his phone work?”

“I’m sorry?”

“He has his phone with him in there,” explained Richie. “When I found him he was using it to watch a video of me. My stand-up routine.”

Mr. Monroe looked interested. “Really?”

“Yeah. But that shouldn’t be possible in there, right?”

“Well we do simulate things like electronic devices,” said the old man. “But as far as the content viewed on them, that all comes from inside the brain. So if he was watching a video of you, that would mean it’s stored in his memory somewhere and was being projected by him subconsciously.”

Richie exchanged an excited glance with Bill. He barely noticed as the  medical staff collected their stuff and left them alone in the room. All he could focus on was that Eddie, apparently, hadn’t completely abandoned him despite his trauma. Richie was still there with him somewhere, and if that was true then that meant…

“He does remember me,” Richie said happily, grinning at Bill before crossing over to Eddie’s bed and taking his hand. “He does, he just doesn’t know it.” He brought Eddie’s hand up and kissed it softly, feeling much more hopeful than he had the last time. 

“I love you, Eddie Kaspbrak, and you’re stuck with me.”


	4. Chapter 4

Richie opened his eyes, blinking them as he adjusted to the harsh sunlight beaming down on the artificial version of his hometown.  _ Christ, I know they’re going for some idyllic Norman Rockwell bullshit, but does every session have to take place at high noon?  _ He tapped the side of his head with one hand to settle the low buzzing he always heard in his ears when he first arrived inside the simulation. He wondered if Eddie experienced the same thing whenever he was dropped in. 

_ Who am I kidding?  _ He smiled to himself as he imagined Eddie’s reaction.  _ Even if he does, Eds probably assumes a bee has crawled into his ear or something.  _

He took a few seconds to shake his limbs out until they felt normal, then looked around at where he had been dropped off this time. So far, he had yet to land in the same place for either of his last two sessions, let alone in even remotely the same vicinity as Eddie. The first time, the simulation had put him on Main Street, the second time in a random neighborhood not far from the one he had grown up on. Each time it had taken him upwards of twenty minutes of precious passing time to locate Eddie. 

And it would appear, he noticed with a heavy sigh as he took a look at his surroundings, this time wasn’t going to be much different. He had been dropped into another quiet side street full of cookie cutter houses that were nevertheless charming and inviting. He felt a small, sad smile appear on his lips as he realized that the house just to the side of him was the house Stan had grown up in. His mind suddenly filled with pleasant memories of hours spent there with the rest of his friends, playing videogames on rainy days or just hanging out and discussing a child’s perspective on life. He could picture them all, but especially Eddie, sitting beside Richie on the floor of Stan’s bedroom with their shoulders touching as they both leaned down to peer at the pages of a comic book settled between them. 

He wondered when or if Eddie would ever be able to recall the same echoes of their shared past, but quickly shoved the thought aside.  _ We’re being positive, bitch. Remember? And you just wasted like twenty whole seconds reminiscing instead of finding that little shit and savoring every tenth of a second you have with him. So move your ass.  _ He took off down the street, not bothering to start looking for Eddie where he was. He had a feeling he would be most likely to find the other man somewhere more accessible to the public than a residential area.

He made his way up toward Main Street, running as fast as he could. One of the unexpected perks of not being in his actual physical body was not necessarily being bound by that body’s limitations. In the real world, when he tried to run he always ended up winded after ten seconds, the unfortunate pitfall of having spent the better part of his twenties and thirties eating chips on the sofa and not exercising. In the simulation, though, as in dreams, running out of breath wasn’t an issue. Which meant that he reached his destination in under five minutes and could immediately begin his search. 

_ Alright Eduardo, where the hell are you? _ He wandered down one side of the street, peering into the windows of each business he passed and feeling more and more frustrated with each second that went by with no sign of his friend.  _ For Christ’s sake, if they’re going to limit us to such a short amount of time per session they could at least adjust for the eight million hours it takes me to go through this shit every fuckin time.  _ He sighed and leaned against the brick wall outside of the small corner grocery, staring up into space as he tried to control his exasperation. 

_ Ok, _ he thought, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes to collect his thoughts.  _ If I were a tiny, middle aged hypochondriac in a fake ass town, where would I be?  _ He crossed the street and started his search anew, feeling certain he had to be getting closer to his goal. He felt a glimmer of hope when his eyes caught sight of the pharmacy in the distance. Surely if Eddie was anywhere it would be his second childhood home, right? He eagerly peeked in the window, seeing nothing but deciding to go inside and look anyway. 

“Looking for something?” Richie jumped at the unexpected voice and let out a startled scream as he felt hands on his shoulders. He turned around, adrenaline coursing through his veins as Eddie’s grinning face greeted him, the other man clearly pleased with himself for managing to scare him. 

“I could fuckin murder you,” said Richie in annoyance even as he felt relief wash over him at this blessed early end to his search. “Are you trying to make me shit my pants?”

“I was actually aiming for something a little less gross, like a heart attack,” replied Eddie, his nose crinkling adorably in disgust. “Besides, you had it coming after you scared me yesterday,” he added, accidentally answering the lingering question Richie had been holding onto for a while about how his friend was perceiving time during this whole experiment. It had actually been almost a week in real time since they’d last met, but apparently to Eddie it had barely been a day. 

“Oh, you mean when you were cyber stalking me?” said Richie, thoroughly enjoying the way Eddie’s cheeks turned visibly pink. 

“I wasn’t cyber stalking you,” Eddie protested, offended. “I was just….I was…” he stammered.  _ Cute, cute, cute.  _ “What are you doing at the pharmacy, anyway?” the other man said in a clear effort to change the subject. “Looking for lube to use on your Fleshlight?”

“Nah, condoms to use with your mom.” The words slipped out of Richie’s mouth before he could think about it, and he had a moment of brief panic as he wondered how they would be taken by this version of Eddie, who had, for all intents and purposes, only known Richie for less than two days.

“What a charmer, I can’t believe you don’t actually have a girlfriend,” said Eddie with an exasperated eye roll.  _ Ok, so he’s just gonna let me get away with that one. Huh.  _

“Want me to go in there and see if they have some soothing cream for that butthurt?”

“Mmm, and Netflix pays you  _ how _ much for this kind of biting wit?” replied Eddie, crossing his arms and cocking his head cutely to one side.

“I make a living,” said Richie with a casual shrug. He boldly stepped forward and looped one of his arms in Eddie’s. “Walk with me, Eduardo.”

“Ok, I guess I’m just your bitch now?” said Eddie in a voice that was trying hard to sound annoyed, even though Richie could hear the amusement underneath. Despite his words, the other man didn’t actually protest whatsoever as he allowed Richie to begin leading him down the street. “And where exactly are we going,  _ Ricardo _ ?”

“Just for a walk,” replied Richie, a warmth spreading throughout his body at the teasing nickname. “In case the paparazzi tracks me down, I’m going to use you as a human shield.”

“Is that a job that pays well, because I could use the money for my divor- hey, look!” exclaimed Eddie, cutting himself off mid-sentence and stopping in his tracks. Richie also stopped walking, following Eddie’s gaze to the building they were standing outside of. The arcade and movie house combination collectively known as the Capitol Theater stood before them, a beacon of acute nostalgia even amid the rest of the unchanged shopfronts of their youth. 

“Damn, it looks exactly the same,” breathed Eddie in awe. He unlooped his arm from Richie’s and peeked into the windows keenly, drawing in a sharp breath of excitement. “Duuuude, they even still have all the same games! Oh my god, I didn’t even remember until just now, but I know I spent so many hours here as a kid playing with all of this shit!” He looked back at Richie like an enthusiastic puppy. “Didn’t you ever come here as a kid?”

Richie swallowed and glanced at the building, briefly forgetting about Eddie as his mind traveled back twenty-seven years and replayed some of the most traumatizing moments of his childhood, excluding anything having to do with that asshole Pennyfuck. He saw himself at thirteen inside that very same arcade, everyone staring at him being relentlessly bullied by Bowers and his goons for the very thing he’d just begun to realize about himself and couldn’t help any more than he could help the color of his eyes or hair. The arcade had never held quite the same magic for him after that day, even though he’d certainly still spent a fair bit of time there. 

“Hey,” said Eddie, cutting off Richie’s internal self-pity fest. His voice was suddenly soft and full of concern. “Are you ok?”

Richie came back to earth, such as it was, and gave himself a shake as though he were banishing his bad memories back to the hell pit they’d crawled out of. “I’m great,” he assured Eddie with a smile. 

“Let’s go inside,” said Eddie with a grin, grabbing Richie by the wrist and practically yanking him through the arcade door. The interior of the building looked pretty much exactly the same as Richie remembered it, right down to popcorn machine in the corner and the ugly patterned carpet, which admittedly looked a lot cleaner since the simulation had not bothered to include the decades worth of ground up dirt and chewed gum that had graced it in the real world. 

“Holy shit, I don’t think they’ve ever even updated this place,” Eddie noted, his eager dark eyes taking in every sight as though he were a child seeing it for the first time. “Look, there’s Pac-Man, there’s Centipede, there’s that stupid pinball machine that never worked right…”

Richie let Eddie’s hyperactive excitement play on in the background as he stepped over to the Street Fighter machine, his eyes lighting up as he lovingly brushed his fingers over the controls that were as familiar to him as his own hands. “This one was always my favorite,” he said, interrupting Eddie’s enthusiastic frenzy. 

“Oooh, Street Fighter,” said Eddie happily, crossing over to stand beside him and gaze at the cabinet in youthful wonder. “I feel like I probably played this one a lot with friends, but I can’t really remember….” He trailed off, a thoughtful frown coming over his face. “It’s so weird, it’s like….I  _ know _ I spent a lot of time playing this with someone but I can’t bring their face into focus, you know what I mean? Like I’m getting so old I’m starting to forget shit like this.”

Richie tried to suppress the urge to scream in discouragement as the very same memories that Eddie wasn’t able to process started pouring into his own mind instead like an old familiar movie, the adolescent versions of themselves spending so many hours in heated battle in front of that game screen that always ended in them either going home together for a sleepover, or else separately to catch some rest for continued war the next day. 

“Well I don’t want to brag or anything, but back in the day I could and often did whip many an ass at this game,” said Richie brightly, rolling his sleeves up in preparation. “Shall we see if I can still whip yours?”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed, much to Richie’s delight. The man may not have been able to remember specifically playing with him so many years ago, but clearly his amnesia had not affected his classic competitive streak. “Only if you’re prepared to die,” Eddie replied, reaching into his fanny pack and retrieving his bottle of hand sanitizer. 

“Really?” said Richie with a snort as he watched his friend practically douse every visible inch of the cabinet’s buttons and controllers with the strong smelling solution. 

“Do you have any idea how many different kinds of bacteria live on the surfaces of these things?” asked Eddie. “Do you want to get a staph infection from a machine that hasn’t been cleaned since 1989?”

Richie rolled his eyes. He glanced down at the spot where the coins would normally go in order to start the machine and wondered how exactly stuff like this worked in a simulation. Did he need to actually insert anything, or….

He needn’t have worried, because the game roared to life at that exact moment, as if it had been waiting for a signal that it was the right time.  _ Ah. Ok. It’s magic, that’s fine.  _ He watched as Eddie finished cleaning the machine and put the sanitizer away with a satisfied zip of his pack. Thankfully, the other man had not seemed to notice that the game had started of its own accord. 

“Happy now?” asked Richie sarcastically. 

“I will be after I kick your ass into next week,” replied Eddie. He grinned devilishly and took his place beside Richie, gingerly placing his hand on one of the controllers as though he didn’t quite trust that he had killed every single germ that once resided on it. 

“You’re going to choke on those words, Kaspbrak,” said Richie gleefully as they finished setting up and proceeded to play. To his delight, he discovered that the passage of time had not succeeded in making him lose the skill he had so carefully crafted during that long ago summer. Eddie was trying his best, but as had always been the case, Richie was better, his character positively beating the shit out of his friend’s as vintage videogame noises filled the air around them. 

“Ready to admit defeat yet?” Richie taunted him as his character delivered a particularly brutal drop kick to Eddie’s. 

“Not on your fuckin life,” retorted Eddie as he tried and failed to avoid a virtual punch. He frowned and doubled his grip on the controller, his face scrunching up in serious concentration that was so endearing and so very  _ Eddie _ that Richie had to quickly look away and focus on the screen in order to not lose his successful streak from distraction. 

“Suck iiiit,” teased Richie, his hands frantically pushing buttons and moving the joystick around. So intent was he on winning the game that he didn’t notice Eddie inching closer to sharply poke his arm with his elbow until it was too late. 

“Oh my god Eds, what the fuck?” exclaimed Richie as his character received its first devastating blow of the game. 

“Suck on  _ that _ , shithead!” crowed Eddie delightedly, the sound of his voice ringing in Richie’s ears as he immediately forgot all about the game, not because of the words themselves, but because of the voice that had said them. He could swear….stake his life on it, in fact….that he had just heard, not the voice of a forty year old man, but one of a young boy. Specifically, the exuberant, hyper, always slightly frenzied young voice that Richie had often recalled in his dreams ever since arriving back in Derry. 

“Ed..” he started to say, certain that he must have just been hearing things. The other man didn’t reply, just broke into a huge grin as he took Richie’s momentary distraction as an opportunity to finally destroy his character. The words GAME OVER flashed across the screen. 

“Ha! I win. How’s it feel to have your ass handed to you?” said Eddie happily, his voice now back to normal.  _ I MUST have imagined it, _ thought Richie as he blinked his eyes and shook his head.  _ Or the simulation fucked up, that’s all.  _

“You got lucky.”

“Yeah yeah, your old man hands just aren’t what they used to be,” retorted Eddie, tauntingly placing one hand over Richie’s, which was still holding on to a joystick. He jokingly jerked their hands back and forth for a few seconds before he slowly stopped and looked down at them. 

“You’re...you’re out of practice,” Eddie said, the words weakly fading into the air. Richie watched as a strange expression appeared on the other man’s face, Eddie’s eyes finally seeming to register the fact that their hands were still touching. 

“So it would seem,” replied Richie with a small smile. He slightly moved his thumb inside Eddie’s grip, which the other man seemed to take as his cue to finally yank his hand back as though it were on fire. 

“Yeah, so..” said Eddie in a strained voice, his cheeks turning red as he cleared his throat. “That was fun.”

“It was,” agreed Richie. 

“You uh…” Eddie looked around awkwardly. “You wanna go back to the hotel or something?”

Richie suddenly felt as if an anvil had been dropped on his head, like in those old cartoons. “ _ Excuse me? _ ” he squeaked, thoroughly unprepared for those particular words to leave Eddie’s mouth. “I...I mean…”

Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. “I meant for like, a drink!”

“Right. Yeah, I...I know, that’s totally what I meant too,” stammered Richie as he struggled to regain his composure. “I could definitely use one.” 

He turned and made his way out of the Capitol’s front door with Eddie walking in step beside him, one of the other man’s hands resting on the back of Richie’s shirt with some of the fabric lightly bunched between his fingers, as though it were some kind of security blanket. He didn’t think Eddie was even aware that he was doing it, and it felt nice so Richie tried not to draw his attention to it as they walked along the street. Even so, Eddie had long since let go by the time they arrived at the door of the Townhouse, although he continued to keep relatively close to him. 

“Why the fuck is there never any staff here?” Eddie whined as they entered the inn and made their way over to the constantly deserted bar. To be fair, this would have been a legitimate question even if they weren’t inside an artificial jungle of computer code. Richie didn’t think he’d seen even one employee at the Townhouse for the entirety of their stay prior to battling with the clown from hell. 

“Who cares, it means we have the bar and everything in it to ourselves, declared Richie. He pulled out a chair and led Eddie over to it via hands on his shoulders. “Please be seated, my good man,” he insisted, and Eddie sat as Richie walked back behind the bar and surveyed the various bottles carefully. “What’s your poison?” he asked. 

“They got any tequila in there?” asked Eddie. 

Richie smiled. “I gotta be honest, I pegged you for a whiskey on the rocks guy.”

Eddie made a disgusted face. “Eew, fuck no,” he protested, as though Richie had suggested drinking pond water. “I actually hate most liquor. I pretty much only stick to tequila or flavored vodka.”

“Interesting,” mused Richie as he located a bottle of tequila that, even though it was just as simulated as everything else in the town, still looked as though it hadn’t been touched since 1971. He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of scotch for himself, since, unlike Eddie, he had zero qualms about consuming literally any liquor he could that would get the job done the fastest. Pushing the bottles into the middle of the bar, he carried the glasses back around and set one in front of each of their places before he took a seat next to his friend. 

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” asked Eddie, tentatively grasping the bottle and looking around guiltily, as though he expected a staff member to appear out of nowhere and yell at them. 

“Look, if they’re gonna leave the bar unattended all the time, that’s on them,” said Richie as he poured himself a drink. “If anyone bitches I’ll take the heat. I got your back.”

Eddie still looked slightly unsure, but shrugged and poured his own drink anyway. “Bottoms up,” he said, raising his glass in Richie’s direction. 

“Cheers,” said Richie with a happy smile, clinking their glasses together before he took a sip. He really wasn’t sure what to expect out of alcohol in this world. The ice cream he’d shared with Eddie the last time had been real enough, only just so. The taste had been barely there at all, and yet Eddie hadn’t seemed to sense anything amiss about his. Richie wondered if all food and drink items inside the simulation worked the same way. 

_ Only one way to find out _ , he thought and took a small, experimental sip. It didn’t taste like much of anything, and certainly nothing like alcohol. It was most reminiscent of unfiltered tap water, which was unfortunate since he felt like a drink or two would do wonders to calm down his nerves that were constantly raging in the background throughout every session. He glanced curiously at Eddie as the other man took a sip of his drink and made a face. 

“Mmmph,” he groaned as he swallowed the liquid down. “Perfect.” He let out a small cough and took another sip, clearly unfazed, which told Richie that he must be able to taste whatever it was he thought he was consuming at any given time.  _ Weird. Maybe you have to believe it’s real in order to taste it.  _

“So,” said Eddie, cutting straight through Richie’s inner investigation into the merits of fake liquor. “Tell me about yourself, Richie Tozier.”

“What is it you wanna know?” asked Richie in between sips of his glorified water. 

“Well we’ve hung out several times now and I feel like I barely know anything about you,” Eddie pointed out, holding his glass delicately in one hand. “And your stand-up routine was wildly unhelpful.”

Richie rolled his eyes. “First of all, that wasn’t even my best work.”

Eddie took another sip, his eyes gazing at Richie thoughtfully over the rim of his glass. “Ok, so let’s start with what made you decide to become a comedian in the first place?”

Richie looked down into his glass, carefully trying to formulate an answer to a question that he wasn’t even sure he fully understood himself. “I guess….because I’ve always kind of used humor as a coping mechanism,” he said contemplatively. “I was an awkward kid who wasn’t comfortable in my own skin most of the time, so I just sort of hid behind lame jokes. I became the “funny one” of my friend group, and I guess as time went on it became hard wired into my defining personality trait.” He took a sip of his drink, which did fuck all to numb the feelings that were starting to rise to the surface due to his own self-reflection. This was actually the first time he’d really thought that hard about his own career choice, and he fervently wished that he was able to believe in the power of this world’s alcoholic beverages. 

“Ok, but then why tell someone else’s jokes?” Eddie pressed curiously in between sips. “You said you don’t write your own material.”

“I don’t,” agreed Richie. “I tried. Way back at the beginning I tried, but like…..you know how sometimes something will sound much funnier in your own head than it does when you say it out loud?” He traced the rim of his glass with one finger. “It was just easier to let my agent hire writers for me. I went along with it because it turned out I had a real knack for at least delivering the jokes, and I guess I..I just got addicted to getting the validation that came with it.”  _ Beep fuckin beep, Richie, way to turn this into a therapy session all about you.  _

“Well if it makes you feel any better, you aren’t the only one dragging coping habits along with you from your youth,” said Eddie as he finished his drink and poured another, his cheeks developing a nice little flush from the alcohol he was perceiving the effects of. 

“And what about you, Eduardo?” said Richie teasingly, running with the opportunity to get the conversation away from himself. “What made you choose to become a...what was it? A fun sucker?”

“A risk analyst, asshole,” Eddie retorted indignantly as he took a big sip of tequila and set the glass down heavily. 

“Right, same thing,” said Richie.

“Well, like you, I didn’t have an easy childhood.” Eddie nursed his drink like it was a shield between himself and his own words. “I can’t actually remember that much of it, at least not anything outside of what it was like to live with my mom. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loved my mom, but good Christ she was smothering. I was sick a lot. I had asthma and allergies out the ass. I still do, but back then I could barely take a piss without her hovering over me, and it was like….I don’t know how to describe it. Kind of like being a caged bird with just enough freedom to not notice that it’s in a cage?” 

Richie just nodded. He was already quite familiar with what it was like to be Eddie growing up in the same house as Mrs. Kaspbrak. 

“Anyway,” Eddie continued as he finished off his second drink and poured himself a third. “I went to college as far away from home as possible. My mom fuckin hated it, but I just wanted to be  _ myself _ , you know? I was determined to live my own life for once. And I did, for a while, or at least I tried but...I always kind of felt like I was being held back. It was me, I was holding myself back, but it was almost like I couldn’t face that it was my own fault now, you know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean,” said Richie softly, taking in Eddie’s pained expression with a twinge of regret.  _ Maybe it was a bad idea to let him drink so soon.  _

“And then I guess I just allowed myself to settle into a “normal life,” whatever the fuck that meant,” Eddie pressed on, his words starting to run together drunkenly as he worked on his tequila. “I got a good job, I got married….that marriage was dead on arrival but I went through with it anyway because….I don’t even know why anymore.” He let out a rueful laugh. “It’s been ten years and I still cringe inside whenever she comes near me. Isn’t that the fucking worst?”

Most of this wasn’t brand new information to Richie, of course. He’d already known that Eddie had come to Derry with the full intention of never going back to his wife, but Eddie hadn’t been nearly this emotional about it the first time he’d told him. 

“I’m a bad person, but I just can’t take it anymore,” said Eddie, slumping down with his elbow on the bar, his face resting in his hand. “I got a phone call...I can’t even remember who from, isn’t that weird? But the next thing I knew I was packing everything I could fit in every piece of luggage I own and I was just….ready to start over. I can’t even explain it, I just knew I was done living a lie.”

Richie swallowed down the lump that had begun forming in his throat. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching over and taking Eddie’s other hand. “You’re not a bad person at all, ok? You’re braver than you think.”

Something flashed in Eddie’s eyes right then, a tiny burst of realization that filled Richie with anticipation, but it was gone just as quickly, his face returning to its previous sorrowful state. 

“I dunno about that, but I’m...I’m so glad I found someone to listen to me whine,” Eddie replied, slurring his words. “We should do this again sometime….ah what the fuck,” he interrupted himself as the impertinent beeping that indicated the encroaching end of the session sounded through the air. Unlike the last couple of times, Eddie didn’t seem as scared of it as he was annoyed. Richie chalked that up to the perceived effects of his drinking, but he decided that he should distract him anyway until it was over, just to make sure he was safe from fear. 

“The fuck is that noise? I hate it,” Eddie grumbled. 

“It’s ok, bud,” said Richie. He turned in his chair to look at Eddie straight on, taking the other man’s face in both of his hands. “Just look at me until it stops, ok?”

“Ok,” Eddie murmured. His eyes lingered for a moment on Richie’s lips before they fluttered up to meet the taller man’s gaze. 

“Just look at me. Look at me,” Richie repeated softly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he rubbed his thumbs gently over Eddie’s cheeks. “It’ll stop in a minute.”

The last thing Richie saw before the simulation began to fade into nothing was Eddie’s trusting face, perfectly willing to put his faith in him. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Richie promised him as the world dissolved around them. 

  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Richie shifted in an uncomfortable metal chair in the middle of the hospital cafeteria, absentmindedly pushing lukewarm macaroni and cheese around a plastic plate with his fork. He wasn’t really hungry, but at the moment Eddie was in the middle of undergoing yet another surgery to fix the damage the clown had done to his body, and Richie’s choices had been to either distract himself with food or sit alone in Eddie’s room, driving himself insane with worry while he waited for him to be brought back. He had chosen the former because the waiting always filled him with crippling anxiety, even though Eddie was healing up quite nicely. Miraculously, the clown’s claw had managed to just barely miss causing any serious damage to his spine or his heart, which meant that he had every chance of a full recovery, even if it was going to take a very long time. 

Still, every surgical procedure, though necessary, posed a risk to Eddie’s health that caused Richie’s nerves to tie themselves into sailor knots until it was over. Eddie’s head injuries were showing significant signs of improvement, but the doctors were still keeping him in a medically induced coma in order to make recovery easier. They had yet to provide even a hint as to when he might wake up, although they assured Richie daily that he eventually would. When that blessed day would be was still anyone’s guess. 

Richie sighed and grudgingly took a bite of his macaroni. It tasted more like vaguely cheese flavored glue, but he couldn’t be sure if that was the fault of the food itself or if his general lack of an appetite recently was really to blame. 

“Disgusting,” he said under his breath, staring down at the plate with disdain. 

“Well, no one ever said cafeteria food was gourmet.” Richie looked up to see Mike standing across from him, holding a tray that contained a sandwich and a sleeve of fries. The other man pulled out the second chair and sat down, gingerly setting the tray down on the table.

“This is prison food,” muttered Richie glumly. 

“It can’t be worse than the food they used to give us at school,” Mike pointed out. “Remember that nasty stuff they insisted was tuna casserole?”

“Ugh!” Richie’s face scrunched up in disgust at the memory. “That stuff tasted like bird shit.”

“God, it was the worst!”

Richie smiled in spite of himself. “I used to make a huge show of scooping up a huge spoonful of it and telling everyone it smelled like Mrs. Kaspbrak’s slippers, and Eds….Eds would get so pissed….” Richie felt his smile slowly fade as his mind filled with the memory of a youthful Eddie, glaring at him from across the Losers’ designated cafeteria table, his face an angry storm cloud even though he was much too adorable for it to really intimidate Richie. 

Mike gave him a sympathetic smile. “He was a real firecracker, wasn’t he?”

“He still is,” declared Richie. 

“How are the sessions going?” Mike inquired as he took a delicate bite of his sandwich and looked over at him attentively. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but we’ve all been wondering.”

“They’re...they’re going ok, I guess,” Richie answered, spearing a macaroni noodle onto each prong of his fork as he spoke. “I love spending time with him, but...but…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence in a way that Mike could understand. He knew his friend missed Eddie too, all of the Losers did. However, he also knew that none of them could ever even come close to knowing how this whole situation felt for Richie himself, who had now lost the love of his life twice in one form or another and was constantly petrified that a third and final time was looming on the horizon. 

“I know how difficult it must be for you,” said Mike compassionately.

“Do you really?” Richie grumbled, his words coming out harsher than he intended. Thankfully, Mike gracefully ignored his tone and nodded. 

“Believe it or not, yes I do,” said the other man seriously. “Don’t forget, I’ve always remembered everything, and that includes countless hours of you and Eddie both trying your damnedest to pretend you didn’t have giant crushes on each other.”

“Was it really that obvious?”

Mike looked at him incredulously. “Are you friggin kidding me, Tozier? You couldn’t have been more obvious if you _ tried. _Bev and Stan started a betting pool on when the two of you would start dating.”

“_ WHAT _?” Richie almost choked on his food at Mike’s words. “Please tell me you’re fucking lying.”

“I bet the others are gonna wish I was when I get around to reminding them that they all owe me money,” said Mike with a snort of amusement. “I said you were going to wait until college, so technically, I came the closest. Everyone else thought you’d barely make it to sophomore year of high school before you caved.”

“Oh yeah, now I remember how much I hate all of you,” Richie said sarcastically as he flicked a noodle across the table at Mike, who laughed. 

“My point is, I know how much you love him, man,” the other man said solemnly, with a kind smile. “He’s your soulmate, we all get that. I can’t imagine how it must feel to be in that space with him and have him not even remember you. It’s got to suck.”

Richie looked pensively down at his food. “It really does,” he agreed, feeling words start to rush to the surface that he had thought to himself many times recently but had never said out loud. “It’s like...on one hand, it feels so good to spend time with him in there. He’s like his old self. Same personality, same hypochondria, same short fuse. Everything. It’s all Eddie, but at the same time…” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, refusing to start crying in the middle of a goddamn hospital cafeteria. “At the same time, I want to just rush at him and scoop him up and never fucking let him go, but I can’t because as far as he knows, I’m practically a stranger. But it’s so _ weird, _ because sometimes I could swear he remembers. He has these moments where something peeks through for just a second, and he _ sees _ me, you know, he sees me, he sees the way we were. But it’s always gone before I can help him run with it.”

Mike leaned forward in his chair, looking interested. “So basically, he remembers everything except you?”

Richie nodded. “I mean, he remembers who he is. He remembers his life in New York, all of it. Hell, he even remembers Derry. The only thing he doesn’t remember is me. Or any of you.”

Mike looked thoughtful. “I wonder if that’s just the residual effects of the curse.”

Richie blinked. “How could it be? None of us are in Derry now and we all still remember each other.”

“Right, but Eddie lost consciousness before the curse was fully lifted,” Mike pointed out, keeping his voice low so as not to call attention to their conversation. “I’m not a doctor, obviously, but I’ve lived my whole life studying this damn thing from every angle, and I’ve gotta say, it’s a possibility.”

Richie felt his brain racing with what this could possibly mean for him. “Wait, so… Fuck, isn’t that bad? If he never physically goes back to Derry, does that mean he’ll never fully remember???” He felt sick to his stomach at the thought and pushed his plate away so he wouldn’t have to look at it. 

“Richie, I don’t k-“

“He has to remember, Mike, he fucking _ has _ to!” Richie whined, not even caring if his voice was loud enough for people to stare.

“Hey, calm down, ok?” Mike pleaded with him. “It’s just a theory, and even if it _ is _ the curse, that doesn’t necessarily mean that you can’t get him back. It just means you’ll have to double down and work harder at helping him during the sessions you have left. You said it yourself, he has moments.”

“Yeah, I guess,” murmured Richie, remembering the young, exuberant voice he’d heard coming out of an adult Eddie’s mouth during their last virtual visit. Mike smiled at him and reached across the table to give him a comforting pat on the hand. 

“It’ll be ok, man. You’ll see. Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” He reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a small piece of paper. “I brought you something.” He slid the paper across the table at Richie, who picked it up curiously and smiled sadly when he saw what it was. It was a picture, taken in the Capitol’s photo booth on a long ago summer, showing seven smiling young faces. Five of them were making various goofy faces at the camera, but the other two were smiling at each other, right in the middle of everyone else. 

“Jesus,” Richie breathed as he stared raptly at the younger versions of himself and Eddie. “This seems like a lifetime ago.”

“It was,” said Mike. “But you’ll be that way again. You just have to have faith, that’s all.”

Richie sighed, his thumb sliding over the photo as he tried to recapture the moment it had been taken. Maybe Mike was right, but that didn’t make the waiting any less frustrating. 

*****

“So anyway, Eds, that was the day we both found out just how far you can push a teacher before they decide to never have their own children,” Richie said, finishing the humorous childhood memory that he had been murmuring into Eddie’s sleeping ear as a nurse worked on changing the dressings covering his healing wounds. 

“You two sound like you were a handful,” the nurse commented good-naturedly as she carefully finished applying the last bandage and brought Eddie’s sheets back up to his chest. “Not sure I blame the teacher.”

“Oh we were the two biggest assholes to ever terrorize Derry Middle School,” said Richie with pride as he gently stroked Eddie’s cheek. “Well… to be fair, I was the bigger asshole. Eddie mostly just encouraged it and went along with whatever I did.”

The nurse smiled warmly at him. “Well, he’s all set. Fresh dressings, fresh sheets, fresh pillow.”

“How does he look?” asked Richie anxiously. “I mean, his… how is he healing?” He hadn’t ever been able to bring himself to take a good look at Eddie’s torso, so afraid that the guilt he was sure to feel at the sight of the injuries would tear him apart. He instead relied on reports from the hospital staff whenever they worked on Eddie. 

“Oh, fine!” she assured him brightly as she began to assemble her supplies back on her portable cart. “He’s healing just fine. No signs of infection, no nothing.”

Richie let out a relieved sigh as the woman left the room, passing by Mr. Monroe and two assistants from the lab on her way out. 

“Well, how’s our patient?” The elderly man crossed over to them and patted Richie on the shoulder as he looked down at Eddie. 

“He’s good,” said Richie, eagerly sitting up in his chair. “Is it time?” He has been anxiously awaiting his fourth session, which had been put on hold for nearly a week while Eddie underwent and recovered from his latest surgery. They hadn’t wanted to put him through the simulation while his body was going through so much, which Richie, of course, agreed with, even if it drove him insane with anticipation. 

“Yep. We’re just going to set up now,” replied Mr. Monroe as the assistants began unloading the program equipment. “And let me just say, I’ve been looking over the data, and his brain activity during the first three sessions has been surprisingly strong.”

“Which means…?” Richie prompted. 

“Which means that his mind is very alert when he’s in there, and it has been since the very first session,” the old man said. “Normally it would take at least a few sessions before the patient would get acclimated to their surroundings, but Eddie took to it almost immediately.”

Richie beamed. “Of course he did, he’s not a little bitch. He fights, and he’s always ready to prove somebody wrong.” He closed his eyes and squeezed Eddie’s hand gently as the lab assistants fitted each of them with the familiar electronic nodes, preparing himself to see the man for the first time in what had seemed like forever. 

_ Alright, Eddio. Hope you enjoyed your peace and quiet away from me, cause I’m on my way to bother the shit out of you. _

He barely felt his transition into the simulation. The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself not, as he had expected based upon the last few times, in a random neighborhood or in the middle of Main Street. Rather, he was somewhere else entirely, in a spot that his memory failed to register until he started to take in his surroundings. The lush, full trees around and behind him. The rocks he was currently sprawled among. The opaque water laying at the bottom of a steep fall from the cliff directly in front of him. 

_ Holy shit, I’m at the fucking quarry. Of all the fuckin places, what the… _ He looked around wildly, knowing the odds were slim that he would see Eddie anywhere and already cursing at how long it was probably going to take to find him this time. _ Goddammit. _He heaved a long-suffering sigh and pushed himself up into a sitting position, stretching his limbs out as he mentally prepared to start running back toward town. 

_ Alright, alright, I’m coming, Eddie, I just gotta- _

A slight buzzing noise filled the air for a split second, and as soon as it ended, Richie let out a yelp of shock as he watched Eddie himself magically appear before his very eyes on the rocky cliff, his eyes still closed and his body curled into a comfortable sleeping position that was starkly unlike the one in his hospital bed . 

“Holy fuck,” Richie whispered, unable to move for a moment as he took in this unexpected turn of events. This was the first time he and Eddie had ever appeared in the same place, and he had to take some time to convince himself he wasn’t just imagining it. “Eddie?” He finally got a handle on his body and scrambled to his feet, making his way over to the still sleeping Eddie as fast as he could. 

“Eddie?” he said again, reaching one hand out to tap the other man on the shoulder, but before he could, Eddie stirred, his body rolling dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Richie’s eyes widened in horror. “EDDIE!” he yelled, panicking as he reached over and firmly grabbed the other man around the middle. He dragged him over to the safety of a nearby rock, which he sat down on before gently pulling Eddie into his lap, letting his friend’s head rest softly on his chest. For a moment he just sat there, holding Eddie soundly in his arms and wondering if something was wrong with him, until, to Richie’s relief, the other man’s eyes finally began to open. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” said Richie, suddenly realizing that Eddie was bound to have a few questions that he wasn’t sure how to answer as the other man slowly began to regain consciousness. It took a minute or two, but at last Eddie fully woke up, his dark eyes darting around chaotically as he scrambled off of Richie’s lap and took in where he was. 

“Where the _ fuck _ am I???”

*****

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

The familiar voice sounded far away as Eddie awoke from his slumber, his senses gradually coming online as he tried to process what was happening. Something was off, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He stirred, expecting to feel the scratchiness of his Townhouse pillow beneath his face, but he didn’t. Rather, he felt the soft fabric of what he slowly realized was a shirt as his eyes traveled downwards and then back up, taking in the fact that there was a person attached to said shirt. 

_ Wait, what? _

He tilted his head up, trying to make any sort of sense of what the hell was going on, and felt his stomach drop to his knees as he suddenly took in several things at once. First, he abruptly realized that he was outside, not even remotely close to his room, somewhere that he couldn’t recognize. Secondly, he was in someone’s fucking lap with his head on their chest. And third, that person was Richie. 

_ Oh my fucking god. _

He gave a graceless flail, launching himself off of Richie and stumbling around until he found his footing. “Where the _ fuck _ am I?” he exclaimed, trying to make heads or tails of his situation as Richie just stared at him worriedly. “How the fuck did I get here….why are we in the fucking forest???” He looked around at the rocks and trees on all sides of him and then back at Richie, hoping he could come through for an explanation before Eddie went into full-on freakout mode. 

“Uh,” said Richie, his hands nervously fidgeting in his lap as he appeared to search for the right words. “You, uh...well…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple twitching as his eyes looked around as though he were hoping for a response to appear from the air. Finally, his face relaxed and he met Eddie’s eyes. 

“You don’t remember? We got trashed and took a walk,” he said, offering a sheepish smile that caused the fluttering in Eddie’s stomach to intensify. “Ended up at this godforsaken place,” he added, gesturing his hand around at where they were. 

Eddie crossed his arms, still wary but decidedly less freaked out, even though he told himself that he still ought to be. He thought back to the Townhouse bar, where the last thing he remembered was the two of them having drinks and talking about life. Surely Eddie hadn’t gotten _ that _ drunk, he never usually did. But, as much as he tried, he genuinely couldn’t remember anything between there and here. 

“And I was asleep in your lap because…?” He felt his body start to overheat as he listened to his own words and finally let himself process them. _ Jesus Christ, Eddie, you got drunk and fuckin draped yourself over the guy? _He didn’t have any trouble believing that’s exactly what he’d done. He’d always been a clingy drunk. In fact, clinging to Richie had crossed his mind once or twice at the bar, though he’d just as quickly pushed the thought aside. 

He thought he saw Richie’s cheeks redden just a bit as the other man cleared his throat and pulled himself into a standing position. “Oh, well...that’s awkward but uh...you know. It was either keep you in my lap or let you pull an _ Almost Famous _ and launch yourself into the water.” Eddie looked around and realized, for the first time, that there was a steep cliff behind him that dropped down into a positively disgusting looking body of water. He let out an involuntary shiver at the thought of making contact with the ungodly quantity of germs that must be present in there. 

“I’m sorry, there is no way in hell that I would ever even consider jumping in there,” Eddie said indignantly, trying to still the thrumming in his chest from having been _ in Richie Tozier’s fucking lap _ by channeling his emotions into statistics. “Not even drunk. The sheer amount of bacteria alone is enough to give you several diseases, probably at least one of which would lead to encephalitis, not to mention that the water is just fucking filthy in general, AND probably has snakes and god knows whatever else, PLUS on top of all of that we don’t even know how shallow it is, so add significant bodily injury to the list of reasons why it’s a terrible idea and I would never do it....”

Richie’s eyes followed his rapidfire hand gestures as he listened to his speech with rapt attention, something that Eddie wasn’t used to experiencing all that often. Usually when he went off on fast talking tangents like that, people either didn’t listen at all or they immediately rolled their eyes, but Richie seemed to be hanging onto his every word as though it were the most interesting story he’d ever been told. He raised one eyebrow at him, the corners of his mouth curling into a tiny, amused smile as Eddie’s monologue trailed to a stop. 

“....I’m finished,” added Eddie in weak conclusion. 

“So what I’m hearing is that you think there is absolutely no way you’d ever consider going near that water,” said Richie, his eyes dancing with mischief that Eddie found so intimately familiar for reasons he couldn’t even begin to explain. 

“Fuck no.”

“Not even for a _ tiny _ little swim?”

“What part of “flesh eating bacteria” is unclear to you?” 

“Not even if I went in first?” Richie kicked his shoes off as he spoke, giving Eddie a look as though he were daring him to stop him. 

“Not even….ok, wow, you’re really doing it,” replied Eddie, his voice catching in his throat as he watched Richie strip off his button-up shirt to reveal the tighter grey T-shirt he wore beneath. He averted his eyes, focusing on a nearby rock as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world, even though the sight out of the corner of his eye of Richie taking his pants off to reveal his laugh-cry face emoji emblazoned boxer shorts was vastly more intriguing. 

“To be honest, the germs are probably more scared of me,” said Richie, backing up a good distance from the cliff in preparation. “I’ve likely been the cause of way more vomiting than they ever have. Last chance to join me.” 

“I don’t want to hear it when you end up catching scarlet fever,” retorted Eddie as his resolve not to stare at the other man in that goddamn T-shirt weakened by the second. 

“Suit yourself.”

“Don’t you dare say I didn’t warn-“ He got no further, because Richie suddenly charged forward, surging right past him and leaping straight off the edge of the rocky cliff. 

“-you,” Eddie finished as he heard him hit the water with a faint splash. An odd sense of deja-vu passed through him, but it quickly passed before he could really get a handle on it. 

_ Whatever, I tried. _He rolled his eyes and sat down on a nearby rock, taking the opportunity to properly collect himself now that Richie wasn’t in such close proximity. He tried once again to remember anything at all from the time he and Richie were sitting at the hotel bar until he woke up in the other man’s arms, but he still drew nothing but a blank. He glanced around, taking in the details of the quarry for the first time since he’d woken up. It was really a very pretty place. The deja-vu feeling hit him again, and he frowned as he tried his hardest to place where it was coming from. Had he been here before? He couldn’t remember, but he felt as though he’d definitely spent time in a spot just like this. He could almost see himself on the very same rocks as a child, surrounded by other kids, just like the ones he’d recalled when he was walking around town. The details were slightly less fuzzy than they’d been before. He saw a tall, curly haired boy, a girl with fiery red hair, the dark haired boy with glasses…

He paused on that last one, trying to bring the boy’s face into focus, but couldn’t do so, even though he could feel it attempting to break through. He pinched the bridge of his nose until the memory faded into nothing, and that was when he realized that it had been a while since Richie had dived into the water and he had yet to hear him resurface. 

“Richie?” he called out, getting up from his rock and cautiously approaching the edge of the cliff. He peered down into the water, seeing no sign of Richie. Frowning, he moved slightly to the side and squinted harder, trying to spot the other man in the murky lake. He still saw nothing. 

“Richie!” He felt a sense of dread start to form in the pit of his stomach as no trace of Richie appeared. “Where are you, asshole? This isn’t funny!” He waited for a sound, a movement, anything to indicate that Richie was nearby, but he was met with silence, save for the sounds of birds he couldn’t see. 

“RICHIE!” The dread in his stomach turned to panic. He wrung his hands, trying to decide what the hell he was supposed to do. Logic told him that calling for help was most likely useless all the way out here, and at best any help he could find would take too long to help Richie. Eddie gulped, knowing he didn’t have any other reasonable choice except to help him himself. 

“Hold on, Richie, I’m coming!” He kicked his own shoes off, not bothering to remove any of the rest of his clothing. He took two seconds to look down at the steep distance between himself and the water before he shoved any thoughts of potential danger aside and backed up for a good head start. 

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, _he thought as he started to run, closing his eyes as he leaped off the edge. He felt himself hit the water with a hard splash, trying not to think about how many strains of bacteria he’d now invited intimate contact with as he rose back to the surface. 

“Richie!” He wiped the filthy water off his face with one hand, looking around desperately for the other man. “Richie! RICHIEEEE!” He treaded water and kept his ears open, waiting for any small sound to help him out. “Fuck. RIC-“

He heard the sound of splashing water first. He let out a petrified scream as he next felt strong hands wrap around him and shove him lightly under the water. Eddie kicked and brought himself back to the surface, sputtering as he coughed water out of his mouth. He turned to see Richie half submerged behind him, a mischievous smile lighting up his face. 

“Hi, Eddie,” he said brightly. Relief washed over Eddie like a warm blanket, but the feeling didn’t last long, quickly being replaced with fiery anger once he could see for certain that Richie was perfectly fine. 

“ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME.” Eddie felt his face contorting with rage. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” 

“I thought there was absolutely nothing that could ever convince you to get in this wat- Ow!” Richie’s sentence was interrupted by a swift punch from Eddie to the side of his arm. 

“I thought you were dying, you asshole!” Eddie snapped. “I probably should have just let you.” 

“Mmm, but you didn’t,” said Richie teasingly, rubbing his arm as Eddie glared daggers at him. “You actually risked a staph infection for little old me.” He threw one hand dramatically over his forehead, and Eddie didn’t know whether to punch him again or be angry with himself for finding the gesture funny in spite of how lame it was and how fucking pissed he still was. 

“Just so you know, I hate you,” he said spitefully, crossing his arms as he angrily kicked his legs to tread the disgusting water. 

“Yeah yeah, the point is, I proved that you will, in fact, dive into this water under the right circumstances,” said Richie gleefully. 

“Fuck off,” Eddie countered, using both hands to send a large splash of water in Richie’s direction. 

“You first,” said Richie, returning in kind with a splash of his own, which hit Eddie square in the face. 

“I’m gonna fuckin kill you,” Eddie declared, swimming over to close the gap between them. He grabbed Richie by the shoulders and pushed him down into the water, Richie grasping at him in a weak attempt to fight him off. The deja-vu came and went again, so fast that Eddie almost didn’t even register it. They struggled for a moment or two, their fighting turning almost playful as Eddie’s fury, to his surprise, started to dissolve into something else entirely. He looked at Richie, at Richie’s stupid face with his stupid glasses resting crookedly on his nose, the water on the lenses slightly obscuring the other man’s eyes. He looked at his messy hair made even more wild by the water, and he looked at how Richie’s wet shirt clung to him like a second skin.

“You’re such a fuckin...such a fuckin dick…”

He swallowed as his words trailed off, the last remnants of his anger fading away as he realized that their hands were still on each other’s shoulders. He felt his stomach do a flip as his eyes traveled from Richie’s eyes to his lips. He felt himself lick his own lips briefly, barely aware in the back of his mind that the last remaining space between them was rapidly shrinking. Richie was looking at him intently, his expression cautious but hopeful. Eddie felt himself be the one to move in, his body on autopilot as he pressed his forehead against Richie’s, their lips so close and yet not close enough. He parted his lips ever so slightly, his heart thudding so hard in his chest that he thought it might burst out completely. He felt their lips finally meet, just barely a graze. Not a full kiss, not really, but enough for Eddie to start seeing stars. 

And then, out of nowhere, he felt himself being torn out of the moment, his brain flashing images that turned his bliss to unexplainable fear. An unkempt yard, a dark, frightening house. Red balloons. Sharp pain shooting down his lower arm. The boy with the glasses….god, why couldn’t his face just fucking coming into focus? His mother’s angry face, and a bulky cast on his arm, clean and white save for one crudely written word. _ LOSER. _

“_ But mom, they’re my friends.” _

_ “But he’s my best friend!” _

_ “It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t Richie’s fault.” _

_ “No, I’m not….I’m not that… I don’t...I don’t, Mom, he’s just my friend…..just my friend, I swear.” _

“Eddie.”

Eddie snapped back to reality, hearing the last of the words dying on his lips. He hadn’t realized he’d been saying them out loud. He breathed hard as the fearsome images slowly faded away and were replaced by Richie’s face, his eyes full of worry and his hands still very much on Eddie’s shoulders. He removed one and used it to delicately cup Eddie’s face and tilt it toward him. “Eddie. Eds. Look at me.” Eddie did so, feeling home and safe as long as Richie was close by. 

“You ok?” Richie asked him, his eyes searching Eddie’s carefully. 

Eddie nodded, suddenly beyond embarrassed as it finally hit him what they...what _ he _ had almost done, and how fucking weird Richie must think he was now. 

“I...I’m ok,” he replied. “I’m good.” He regretfully tore himself away from Richie and rubbed one hand down his face, his fingers pausing on his own lips as they burned with the memory of how Richie’s had felt on them, brief though it had been. He brushed the thought aside and went back to burying his feelings down inside himself so he wouldn’t have to deal with them. 

“We should get the fuck out of this water immediately though,” he continued. “We’ve probably already caught at least five infectious diseases. Also, don’t call me Eds.”

Richie just kept staring at him with the oddest expression on his face. He looked like he wanted very badly to say something, but thought better of it. He just rolled his eyes and smiled, giving Eddie one more playful splash as the two of them made their way over to the edge of the water. They climbed back up to the rocks in silence, Richie reaching the top first and holding out his hands to help Eddie. 

“Up up up, Eduardo,” he said cheerfully, teasingly wiggling his fingers as he looked down on him with a grin. 

“I could do it myself, you know,” Eddie protested weakly, even as he gladly took the man’s hands and allowed him to pull him up to the safety of the rocky spot. 

“Are you sure about that? What with all the bacteria you have now and all?” Richie quipped.

“Yeah, fuck you for that, by the way,” Eddie grumbled, silently thankful that Richie seemingly wasn’t going to bring up the almost-kiss. 

“Hey, I didn’t _ ask _ you to risk life and limb just to make sure I was ok,” said Richie as he walked over to where he’d left his clothes. “You made that decision entirely on your own, my dude.”

“Yeah, and it will be the last time. Next time I’ll just let you drown, dickwad,” said Eddie, focusing his attention on lifting up the bottom of his shirt so he could wring out all the water. He caught sight of Richie staring at him, his eyes keenly focused on Eddie’s stomach like he’d never seen one before. 

“What?” Eddie demanded. 

“Nothing,” said Richie. “I was just…. it’s nothing. Sorry.” 

He adjusted his glasses and focused his attention back on getting dressed, clearly lost in thought. Eddie pulled his shoes back on, feeling conflicted as he ran through the day’s events in his overactive brain. Despite his embarrassment, he was dying to know what was going through the other man’s mind after their encounter in the water. He wanted to go up to him and shake him and demand that he tell him everything he’d felt and had it been the same things Eddie was feeling up until his freakout? Hell, part of him wanted to just grab him and try that kiss again, but the rest of him knew it was probably better to let it go and pretend it hadn’t happened, lest he risk scaring Richie away. 

“Just walk me back into town, dumbass,” he finally said once Richie had finished getting all his clothes back on. He linked his arm through Richie’s before he could overthink it and led them away from the rocks, unable to explain to himself how he knew where he was going. They walked in silence for a little bit, Eddie allowing himself to just enjoy this little bit of closeness with Richie, a closeness that felt as familiar as the back of his hand, even if he didn’t know why. They had almost reached the edge of town before Richie finally broke the silence. 

“So, just to address the elephant in the room, you were totally about to kiss me back there, right?”

Eddie’s heart jumped into his throat. “I...I uh…” He scrambled to come up with a smart and eloquent reply, but the familiar fucking beeping sound rang through the air just then, causing him to momentarily forget what he’d been thinking about as his stomach began to flip with anxiety. 

“Goddammit,” he moaned unhappily, knowing by now that the sound surely meant a blackout and chunks of lost time. He didn’t have time to focus much on it, however, because Richie took both of his hands into his own, holding on firmly as if to assure him that no matter what, he had him and wouldn’t let him go. 

The last thing Eddie felt before the blinding whiteness took over was a soft kiss on his cheek. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

_ Eddie wandered through the vast, white abyss, trying fruitlessly to get his bearings as no matter where he stepped, there wasn't anything to be seen but pure, unadulterated nothing. Richie’s face still lingered in the forefront of his memory like a ghost, his cheek could still feel the other man’s soft, comforting kiss, and he still felt his hands in Richie’s, clear as day. But he couldn’t see him, couldn’t actually touch him. He could only wander the endless blank expanse alone, his head buzzing as muffled voices sounded from somewhere he couldn’t pinpoint.  _

_ “We miss you, Eddie,” said an unfamiliar man’s voice.  _

_ “Tell him hi from us, Rich,” said a woman’s soft voice he couldn’t even begin to identify.  _

_ “I will,” said a third voice, and even though it was horribly muffled and muted by the incessant buzzing he couldn’t shake, he instantly recognized it as Richie’s.  _

_ “Richie!” He shouted the name desperately, looking around for the source of the voice, but finding only the physical embodiment of television static no matter where his eyes landed. “RICHIE!” He groaned as a sharp pain radiated through his stomach, his hand instinctively running up under his shirt to check for what was causing it. He let out a small, terrified gasp as his fingertips unexpectedly brushed over rough and broken, but healing, skin.  _

_ “Richie?” he called out again? “Richie what’s happ-“ _

Instantly, the blinding whiteness disappeared and Eddie found himself suddenly back to reality, his breath ragged as he reached for his inhaler but didn’t find it.  _ Fuck. Ok. Ok, Eds. You’re ok, you can handle this. Deep breaths.  _ He closed his eyes and inhaled a few times, letting the breaths out gradually as he felt his body start to relax. Curiously, he pulled his shirt up a tiny bit and cautiously examined his stomach. Nothing but the same old unblemished skin that was always there. Good. 

He sighed with relief and glanced around at his surroundings, trying to gauge where the fuck he was. He was on a residential street, that much was clear. How he had gotten there was anyone’s guess, but something about it triggered a sense of recognition deep within him. He caught sight of a small, cozy white house with blue shutters and was instantly hit with a wave of nostalgia, almost like he was coming home. It wasn’t  _ his  _ home. He didn’t know the house, not really, but it felt as if it was the kind of place he probably would have liked to spend a lot of time as a kid. He turned slightly and saw a tall, thick tree in the front yard, from which hung a hastily assembled tire swing. 

Suddenly, although he couldn’t explain how, he knew exactly where he was. Well, kind of. He still didn’t know why that particular house made him feel the way it did, but he somehow knew that his own childhood house wasn’t far from where he was standing. He was on his old street. 

_ How the actual fuck did I end up here? The last thing I remember was...was… _

His body felt warm all over as he recalled his close encounter with Richie in the filthy quarry water, and the feather light kiss the man had placed on his cheek right before the world had disappeared again. Eddie didn’t know what was causing his blackouts, but he knew that, for some godforsaken reason, the only thing that prevented him from having a full-blown panic attack at the thought of them was Richie’s calming presence. 

_ I could really use that little bastard right now, then,  _ he thought grumpily to himself as he tried not to think about how he’d suddenly ended up from the woods to the street he’d grown up on with no recollection of time in between. He closed his eyes, as if he thought that if he wished hard enough, Richie might just appear out of thin air to distract him from his own thoughts.  _ Come on, you beautiful fucker, where are you?  _

He didn’t know what he expected to see when he opened his eyes, but, despite his silent wishing, what he definitely did  _ not _ expect to see was Richie  _ actually  _ standing there across the street in front of someone’s chain link fence, looking slightly disoriented as he tapped on one ear with his hand. He didn’t seem to notice Eddie whatsoever. 

“Holy fucking mother of shit fuck!” Eddie screeched, his eyes widening in shock as his heart began to race. “What the fuck! WHAT THE FUCK.”

Richie, having now discovered that he wasn’t alone, gave him a look that Eddie might have recognized as sheer panic if he hadn’t been so busy having his own freakout. 

“Heeeey,” Richie said, offering him an awkward smile and a wave.

“What the fuck, where the fuck did you come from??” Eddie demanded. 

“I...uh...what do you mean?” Richie stammered, adjusting his glasses with one hand, his cheeks flushing slightly red. 

“I mean I was alone one minute and the next minute you just appeared out of thin fucking air like Harry Fuckin Potter,” Eddie explained, opening and closing his eyes as if he thought Richie might disappear again if he did it enough. 

“I...I’ve been here the whole time,” Richie replied with another self-conscious calibration of his glasses. 

“The fuck you have,” said Eddie, looking at him skeptically. “I would have...I would have seen you.” He had to stop to think for a moment.  _ Would _ he have seen him? He’d just come out of a blackout, after all. 

“I don’t...I don’t know what to tell you, man,” said Richie uncomfortably, looking like he wanted to say more but didn’t. “Are you ok?” he asked, concern in his voice as he crossed over to Eddie and gently cupped his cheek in one hand. “You look a little hot under the collar.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie mumbled, fumbling in his fanny pack for a bottle of anti-anxiety pills he hoped were still in there. He said a silent prayer of thanks as his fingers closed around it, and he hurriedly opened the bottle and shook out one tablet, downing it expertly in one gulp. “I honestly don’t know if I’m ok. I keep having these fucking blackouts where I lose huge chunks of time, and I don’t know why, or what’s causing them, and I can’t even fucking remember what I’m doing back in this shithole town, and my brain is just one big jumbled mess and I just...I’m so fucking anxious,” he rambled, all of his nervous energy tumbling out of him at once as he unloaded onto Richie, who stood and listened attentively. 

“I’m sorry, I know my mouth runs when I get nervous,” Eddie finished, tingling as Richie grabbed his hand and gently squeezed it in support. 

“It’s ok,” said Richie, his eyes locking with Eddie’s in that way he had that always seemed to instantly begin calming him down. “You’re tired and stressed, you’re entitled to a meltdown every now and then.”

“My whole life has been one big meltdown.”

Richie gave him a small smile. “Look, I'm just saying, from my own experience? Stress is a hell of a drug, but you can’t just let it eat at you constantly. Those big brown eyes of yours are way too gorgeous to be so worried all the time.” 

Eddie felt his knees faintly start to tremble as he once again remembered their almost-kiss. He was still dying to know Richie’s opinion on  _ that _ encounter, but he knew he would never have the courage to ask. 

Then again, the man had literally just said he had gorgeous eyes, so he supposed that was encouraging. 

Eddie cleared his throat and smiled back at Richie, suddenly feeling a bit better now that he wasn’t alone. “Take a walk with me, then?” he asked as he started to lead Richie down the sidewalk by the hand that was still holding onto his own. “It will help me relax.”

“For you? Anything,” said Richie, and Eddie felt himself die a little as the other man suddenly let go of his hand and put his arm around his shoulder instead. “Lead the way, good sir.”

“This, uh…this is…” Eddie struggled to form words, unable to concentrate on anything else except for how close their bodies were. “This is the street I grew up on,” he finally said as he managed to find his tongue. “This isn’t my house, I….I don’t know who lived in this house, but I feel like maybe I remember playing here? I’m not sure, though.”

Richie looked wistful. “I knew the people who used to live there,” he said, catching Eddie off guard. 

“You did?”

“Yeah,” said Richie with a nostalgic smile. “Nice family, great parents, two cool kids. Always thought the boy was a bit of an annoying shithead, but deep down he was a good kid, really.”

“Wow, so we must have just missed seeing each other a lot of times back then,” said Eddie incredulously as he absorbed this information. “What were the odds?”

“What  _ were _ the odds,” Richie agreed. The two of them walked along, Eddie feeling a lot calmer now with Richie’s arm around him, almost protective in the way it drew Eddie close. He was trying to remember if there had ever been a time as a kid where he might have seen Richie around. Surely they must have at least gone to the same school or something, but for the life of him he was drawing nothing but blanks. He suddenly realized that they had walked all the way down the road and were now standing directly in front of Eddie’s own childhood house, which, unlike the pretty white house, was boring and beige and not the least bit welcoming or homey. 

“Home sweet home, huh?” said Richie dryly. 

“How’d you know this was my house?” asked Eddie. 

Richie looked only slightly taken aback before he recovered and nodded in the direction of the mailbox. “Well, the mailbox says Kaspbrak so I figure either you lived here or that’s a much more common name than I thought.”

“Well, it was home, but I wouldn’t exactly call it sweet,” said Eddie, looking up at the glorified prison of his youth reflectively as he absentmindedly bunched some of the fabric from the back of Richie’s shirt between his fingers. “My mom made sure of th- what are you doing??” he exclaimed as Richie started walking ahead of him up the path toward the front door. 

“Going inside, duh,” said Richie. 

“I can see that. Why?” asked Eddie. 

“Cause I’m curious,” replied Richie, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to Eddie. 

“I know social graces aren’t exactly your strong suit, so I feel like I should explain that normal people don’t usually go up to someone’s house and let themselves in,” said Eddie in a loud whisper, looking around to make sure no one was watching. 

“Ah,  _ normal _ would be the operative word there, Eddio,” said Richie cheerfully as he nonchalantly put his hand on the doorknob and turned it. To Eddie’s surprise, the door actually opened. 

“We can’t just go in there,” he protested, even as he walked up the pathway anyway to join Richie on the front stoop. 

“Sure we can. Who’s gonna complain?” asked Richie as he entered the house first and looked back at Eddie expectantly. 

“The current owners I assume….whoa,” Eddie breathed out as he walked in behind Richie and took a good look around. The front hallway and living room still looked exactly the way it had ever since he could remember, right down to his mother’s easy chair in the corner and the ugly curtains on the wall. “I thought we’d gotten rid of this stuff, how the fuck…” He felt uneasy, because he was positive all of his mother’s belongings had been packed away or donated after she’d passed. Then again, it had been Myra who had taken charge of those particular details, so he supposed he could have been wrong, but…

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Eds,” said Richie, stopping Eddie’s train of thought. 

“I have,” replied Eddie as he looked around in amazement. “I feel like I just stepped back in fucking time. Everything looks exactly the same as when I was a kid.”

Richie looked around, a look of absolute confusion on his face, as if he couldn’t see the same things Eddie did. “It...it does?”

“Every last detail,” Eddie murmured, giving a troubled look over at his mother’s favorite chair. He could almost picture her sitting there with that disapproving look on her face if he even dared to step a toe out of line with her expectations. 

_ “You can’t go outside, Eddie Bear, you’ll get sick.” _

_ “Take your medicine, Eddie.” _

_ “I don’t like that loud friend of yours, I’d rather he not come to the house.” _

Other images came to the surface in between the memories of his mother’s voice. The cast on his arm, a large red V now replacing the S in the word LOSER. Pills bearing his name on the bottle that he was expected to take or else. Endless summer days spent alone and miserable in his room wishing he could just go hang out with his friends. 

He looked away from the chair and blinked the memories away before they ended up consuming him. “Let’s go look at my old room,” he said, grabbing Richie by the hand and leading him across the house to his small childhood bedroom, which, like the rest of the house, looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. Unlike the rest of the house, however, this room filled him with happier memories, even if they weren’t all that clear. He saw himself sitting on the floor by the bed, an open comic book on the floor and the boy with the glasses by his side. He focused, trying to see if he could see the boy’s face this time. It still wasn’t detailed enough, but he could  _ almost  _ make it out….

“Oh wow, I see it now,” said Richie to himself in a quiet voice that Eddie almost missed hearing entirely. The other man was looking dreamily around the room, and if Eddie didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw Richie’s eyes light up in recognition. 

“Uh, yeah,” said Eddie, gesturing his hands around in presentation. “So this was my room. I guess my mom never got rid of any of my shit after I left home and no one else bothered to do it either.” He still couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation to rationalize this turn of events to himself, but he’d decided that he wasn’t going to overthink it. Especially not when the sight of Richie wandering around taking in the sights of all Eddie’s old crap was so inexplicably adorable. 

“Look at all this  _ Star Wars  _ shit,” said an amused Richie as he playfully toyed with a C-3PO figurine on Eddie’s dresser. “Eduardo, you were a  _ nerd _ !” 

“Yeah yeah, some of that shit is probably worth some serious bank, so who’s laughing now, asshole?” said Eddie, trying to hide a smile as Richie picked up a tiny Death Star and started zooming it around in the air. He turned and looked wistfully at the large window beside his bed, remembering how he used to sit and just look outside for hours while he listened to music on his stereo. His was sure he could remember someone who would always climb into his room through that window…..the boy with the glasses, maybe? Eddie concentrated as hard as he could, trying to force himself to make the details as clear as possible. He could perfectly picture the boy’s Hawaiian shirts, his sneakers, his clunky glasses, even the scattering of freckles across his face, but the eyes….those continued to frustratingly elude him. 

“Nice music collection,” said Richie, and Eddie came back to earth to find that the other man had now discovered his stereo and cassette collection and was gleefully going through it with a huge, cheesy grin on his face. “Let’s see, we have Madonna, Whitney, Elton John, some classic Journey….Vanilla Ice….wow, let’s play Which of These Things is Not Like The Others, shall we?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “And what were you listening to as a teenager, dumbass? Beethoven?”

“The Cure, mostly,” said Richie as he continued to flip through the cassette tapes. “Cause I wasn’t preparing myself for a career as a music consultant on the set of  _ Glee _ , like you clearly were.” He selected a tape out of the collection and looked at it curiously before holding it out for Eddie to examine. “Yo, Eds, what’s this mix tape with the big ass red hearts drawn on the label?”

Eddie peered at it and flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t know, I probably made it while I had a dumb teenage crush on a celebrity or something. Just put it b-“ He didn’t bother to finish his sentence because Richie was already removing the tape from its plastic case and inserting it into the stereo. 

“Put it back my ass, I’m dying to know what an Eddie Kaspbrak mix tape sounds like,” he crowed in delight as he adjusted the volume control and the tail end of “It’s Raining Men” began to blast through the speakers. 

“Oh my god,” mumbled Eddie, facepalming in shame as he sank down onto his bed. 

“Tell me, Eds, which dumb teenage crush was  _ this _ song for?” asked Richie with a goofball grin as the song ended and a DJ’s voice briefly intercepted to announce the radio station the tape had been recorded from before Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” replaced it. 

“I don’t even know,” replied Eddie honestly. “But this has been suitably embarrassing and I’m gonna throw myself out the window now.”

“The fuck you are, Kaspbrak,” said Richie, smiling as he crossed over to the bed and yanked Eddie up by the hands. “ _ Ooooooh I wanna dance with somebodyyy _ ,” he sang along with the track in a surprisingly good voice as he moved Eddie’s arms around in an attempt to get him to dance. 

“Not gonna happen,” Eddie insisted, stubbornly refusing to move of his own accord. 

“Oh come on,” Richie prodded him.  _ “Don’t ya wanna daaaaance with me babyyyyy.”  _ He launched himself in all directions in a horribly uncoordinated manner that caused Eddie to have to bite his lip to keep from smiling.  _ “Don’t ya wanna daaaaaance with me boy…” _

“All the grace of a baby ostrich,” critiqued Eddie. 

_ “WITH SOMEBODY WHO LOOOOOVES MEEEEE _ ,” Richie sang out with feeling, sweeping Eddie into his arms in a mock waltz. Eddie sighed and gave in to the inevitable, allowing himself to be prodded into dancing with Richie. Neither of them were going to be fielding offers from a professional dance company any time soon, and Eddie could only imagine how stupid they must look if anyone were to be observing them, but he decided he didn’t really care, because they were alone and, well, Richie’s energy was infectious. 

Eddie found himself actually smiling by the time the song came to an end and was swiftly replaced with Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes,” a decided change in tone that caused him to not know what to do with his body and end up sort of toppling forward into Richie, who caught him and gently set him back upright. 

“Now this song takes me back,” Richie said nostalgically, taking Eddie’s hands and placing them on his shoulders before he put his own hands around Eddie’s waist. 

“Why? Because it’s a cheesy prom song?” asked Eddie, his stomach dipping excitedly as they started swaying back and forth to the gentle rhythm of the song. 

Richie chuckled. “Actually, no. Well, I mean, it is a cheesy prom song, but that’s not the reason. See…” He paused, his smile fading as he clearly began fading back into a long ago memory. “See, when I was a kid I had such a huge crush on this boy who lived down the street.”

Eddie snapped to attention at this unexpected revelation. “Oh?” he said carefully, not wanting to appear too interested but also wanting one hundred percent of the details so he could figure out exactly how jealous he should be. 

“Yeah,” said Richie, the smile returning to play on his lips. “I always wanted to stand outside his window with a boombox playing this song like John Cusack In  _ Say Anything _ .”

“That’s a good movie,” said Eddie.

“A classic,” agreed Richie, pressing his hands firmly into Eddie’s waist and drawing him a bit closer. 

“So did you?” Eddie asked after several seconds went by without Richie continuing his story. 

“What, actually stand outside his window with a boombox?”

“Yes,” said Eddie, trying not to sound impatient. 

“No, dude,” said Richie, sounding regretful even though he gave a small laugh. “I mean, I probably would never have done that anyway, but if you’re asking if I ever told him I liked him, no, I didn’t. He was one of my best friends, and...you know. It was a different time….” His eyes clouded over and Eddie felt another surge of jealousy over this mystery boy whose mere memory could cause Richie to look so tragically wistful. 

“It’s too bad it’s too late for that now,” Eddie said, a bit more pointedly than he intended, his hands meeting as locking together behind Richie’s neck as they swayed to the song. 

Richie looked down at him, amused. “Why do you say that?” he asked teasingly. “It’s never too late. You never know, he might still be single.” His eyes shone playfully as they locked with Eddie’s, and Eddie felt his breath catch in his throat as he forgot what he was going to say next. The song changed, morphing into Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away,” but he barely noticed. He could only concentrate on how nice it felt being so close to Richie, and how it still wasn’t close enough. 

He moved even closer until their bodies were pressed together, his eyes traveling down to Richie’s lips just as he had done back at the quarry. His heart was pounding out of his chest as his body worked faster than his brain could keep up with. He leaned up to close the height difference between them, and before he could allow himself to hesitate this time, he closed his eyes, surged forward, and met Richie’s lips with his own. His heart raced so fast that he was sure it would explode, but he didn’t give a single fuck. All that mattered was the butterflies in his stomach and the fireworks behind his eyes as time stopped and the only things that existed in the entire world for a brief moment were him, Richie, and the kiss that somehow felt long overdue. 

“Eddie,” Richie murmured softly against him when their lips finally parted, his eyes blown behind his foggy glasses as he struggled to catch his breath. The other man’s heart was thudding so hard that Eddie could feel it through all the layers of their clothing as he took Richie’s face in his hands and kissed him again. He felt Richie kiss him back hungrily, and stars exploded behind Eddie’s eyes as their lips performed a lovers’ dance as though they had been destined for it. 

“Fuck,” Richie breathed out in a whisper when their lips finally parted and they looked each other in the eyes once more. The other man looked wrecked, his eyes dark and his cheeks a brilliant shade of red as he looked down at Eddie in amazement and licked his bottom lip as though he could still taste him. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, pulling him back in for another heated kiss. Now that he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough. Richie let out a soft moan against his lips that sent electricity coursing through Eddie’s body. He began backing Richie up toward the bed without even thinking about it, their lips never parting the entire way. Richie easily fell onto it and pulled Eddie down on top of him, and for a moment it was an awkward mess of tangled arms and legs as Eddie struggled to adjust his body on a bed that wasn’t designed for two without having to take his lips off of Richie. 

“We...we’re...not good...at this,” Richie quipped in between kisses as Eddie finally settled his weight on top of him. 

“Shut up,” replied Eddie. Richie complied and their passionate makeout session resumed. Eddie forgot literally everything and everyone as his entire world narrowed to just one thing, which was the thought that nothing in his entire forty years on the planet had ever felt as  _ right _ as this did. He felt Richie’s fingers roam down his back and play at the hem of his shirt for a moment before he slipped them underneath it, the heat of his skin causing Eddie’s brain to temporarily short circuit. He parted his lips from Richie’s and sat up, intending to help him out and remove his own shirt, but the sight of Eddie’s hands reaching down toward the hem seemed to cause some kind of instant switch in Richie. His eyes lingered on Eddie longingly for a second before he closed them and placed a hand on Eddie’s wrist to stop him. 

“Eddie, I...Eddie, stop. Please.”

Eddie did stop, blinking down at him in confusion. “Why? Are you...are you ok?”

Richie nodded. “I’m fine, it’s not that, it’s just...we can’t...we can’t do this right now. Not here.” He looked as if every word he was speaking was physically painful, and a block of ice began to form in the pit of Eddie’s stomach. 

“Why not?” Eddie asked. 

Richie sighed heavily and pulled himself into a sitting position to face him properly. He nervously adjusted his glasses and looked down at his hands. “Eds, we...we have to talk about something, and I’m not sure how...”

The ice block grew bigger as Eddie tried to process this sudden change. A horrible thought entered his mind, and he felt like he was going to throw up as he averted his eyes from Richie and brought himself to say it out loud. “Oh my god, you don’t...you don’t want me.” 

Richie’s eyes widened in surprise. “What...no! No, that’s  _ not _ it, trust me. I do, I just… we can’t…”

“Please don’t lie to make me feel better,” said Eddie, choking back a humiliated sob as he got up off the bed and backed away from it, refusing to look directly at Richie because he knew if he did, the embarrassment would be too much for him and probably kill him right there on the spot.  _ Oh my god I threw myself at him and he didn’t know how to reject me nicely, oh my FUCKING god, I am such a dumb asshole _ . 

“Eddie…” Richie got up and began crossing over to him. 

“Stop,” Eddie whined pitifully, holding a hand out to stop him from coming any closer. “Please, just stop, I… this was my fault, I’m sorry, don’t...don’t…DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME,” he exclaimed in a panic as Richie reached a hand out and tried to place it on his arm. Eddie’s fight or flight instincts took over and he turned and ran out of the room, making his way out of the house and onto the street as fast as his feet would carry him. He heard Richie running after him, calling after him desperately, but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to face him and ran faster. 

“Eddie!” Richie shouted after him as he tried to keep up with Eddie’s pace. “Eds….EDDIE, PLEASE!” The raw despair in his voice did manage to cause Eddie to slow down until he stopped and turned around, using every ounce of bravery he had to look at Richie. 

“Eddie, come on, where are you going?” asked Richie as he finally caught up with him. He reached for Eddie’s hand but Eddie took a sharp step back, not willing to let himself be drawn back in and risk fracturing his heart even more than it already was. 

“Honestly, I’m probably going back to the inn to pack,” replied Eddie. The thought had just occurred to him, but it was looking more and more like a better idea by the second. “I’m gonna get the fuck out of Derry and we can pretend none of this ever happened, ok?” 

An unreadable expression appeared on Richie’s face. “Eddie...fuck… you can’t do that.”

“Who are you, my mom? I can do what I want, I don’t need your permission,” retorted Eddie angrily. 

“NO, I mean…” Richie stammered as he adjusted his glasses, clearly frustrated as he tried to decide what to say next. “You literally can’t leave, this is what we need to talk about…”

Eddie didn’t stick around to hear the rest of what the other man had to say. He resumed running out of his neighborhood and toward the woods, turning onto the road that would eventually lead him toward the main part of town. He stopped listening for Richie’s footsteps behind him and just concentrated on putting as much distance between them as possible before his own shame murdered him. Eventually he slowed to a walk, stopping to take a rest by the old bridge that everyone in town collectively referred to as the Kissing Bridge, so named because almost every couple in Derry had carved dumb love notes into the wood at some point and, presumably, kissed there afterwards. 

_ How the fuck do I remember that? _ he mused, leaning tiredly against one side of the bridge and looking down into the woods below. It made him dizzy, so he sat down instead, not even thinking or caring about ground germs as he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head against the ancient wooden fencing. His eyes wandered over the various carvings adorning the wood beside him, some of them fresh, some of them quite worn, all of them mementos of someone else’s love story. 

_ Fuckin good for them, _ he thought bitterly. 

His gaze drifted down toward the bottom of the fence and settled on a small carving, comparatively cruder and less skilled than some of the others, that featured a simple letter R inside of a poorly rendered heart. He brushed his fingers over it, suddenly feeling very strange as a sense of deja vu took hold of him as it had done back at the quarry. He looked down at his left hand, which he no longer saw as  _ his _ present day hand, but a much younger and smoother version of it from a bygone era. He could feel the weight of a knife inside of it that he couldn’t see, and his head swam as he remembered, he  _ remembered _ , being the one to carve that R. He could see it plain as day, his thirteen year old self walking by the bridge one lonely, late summer day after yet another fight with his mother, the knife in his pocket because he’d already had a plan for it. He’d done it with his left hand because his right arm was still healing inside its cast, but he’d felt it couldn’t wait, it needed to be done  _ right then,  _ because the other day he’d seen… he’d seen…

Present-day Eddie’s eyes widened and he maneuvered himself around, his eyes wildly scanning the smattering of stupid carvings on the adjacent fence post until they finally found the only one he was looking for. A simple  _ R+E,  _ the E a bit fainter than the R, but nonetheless an integral part of the piece that had caught his younger self in a tornado of emotions, which had eventually led to the lone heart-encased R below. He brushed his fingertips against the letters, a rush of images and voices inundating his brain all at once, as though a dam had broken.

He saw himself at thirteen, riding his bike down this same road with the kids he’d recalled before, only now he could see them clearly. They were all there, their faces sharply in focus as he mentally named them all. Bill. Stan. Bev. Mike. Ben. Richie…

_ Fuck. FUCK.  _

Eddie choked back a gasp as the dark haired boy with the glasses finally became crystal clear and he could properly see his eyes, the very same eyes that were now older and weighed down by a lifetime of baggage, but which Eddie knew he had definitely gazed into recently. 

His entire life played through his mind like a movie on fast forward, the memories coming fast and strong. That summer. The fucking clown. Drifting apart from his friends in high school as they gradually left town one by one. Hugging Richie goodbye on Richie’s last night in Derry before college, stifling his tears as he silently accepted what he knew he would never tell him. The phone call from Mike and all the forgotten feelings that had brought to the surface with such force that he had crashed his car. Seeing Richie at the restaurant after so long and knowing instantly that this thing between them had never died, only laid dormant for so long, too long. The wasted twenty-seven years. The fucking clown  _ again _ . Richie in the Deadlights, Richie staring up at him in awe after he speared the clown, the sharp pain that tore through him….

Eddie reached up under his shirt and ran his fingers over his stomach, feeling the ghosts of healing wounds as he remembered being propped up in the corner of the sewers with Richie holding his hand until he left to join their friends in finishing off the clown. The darkness had been closing in rapidly but Eddie had summoned all his remaining strength to fight it off, because goddammit, he hadn’t come that far to be torn away so easily. The darkness had engulfed him anyway, and then….everything was a blank until the Townhouse. 

All of this took less than ten seconds to race through Eddie’s mind, but that was enough time for him to realize that he needed to turn back and find Richie  _ now _ so he could look him in the eyes, touch him, and make sure this wasn’t all some fever dream. 

“Richie!” He scrambled to his feet, turning in all directions to see if the man had caught up with him yet. “Richie! RICHIEEEEE!” He had a brief moment of panic, thinking maybe he’d lost Richie after all, but the sudden sound of his name being uttered behind him broke it. 

“Eddie!” 

He turned around, his breath turning rough and ragged as he saw Richie standing there, disheveled and windblown, but looking relieved to have found him. The other man started towards Eddie, who held a hand out to stop him. He wanted to embrace Richie so badly but, as dumb as it may have sounded, he had to be sure it was really him. He couldn’t make heads or tails of anything that had happened since Neibolt, and if Eddie was really dead or something and Richie was actually an angel of death or some figment of his imagination, he needed to know.

“E...Eddie?” asked Richie, looking at him cautiously. 

“What was the last thing I said to you?” Eddie hadn’t actually planned on asking that question, it had just tumbled out of his mouth with no thought, but he figured if Richie was able to answer it, then everything was ok. 

Richie looked confused. “You ran out of your house like a drama queen and said you were leaving D-“

Eddie shook his head impatiently. “Not that, you shithead! I meant down in the sewers. The last thing I said to you before all...this,” he said, gesturing his hand around to indicate their surroundings. 

Richie’s eyes widened in astonishment, his mouth hanging open slightly as he slowly processed the words. “Eds?” he said in a quiet voice full of undeniable hope. 

“Oh my god, answer the question before I fucking kill you!” exclaimed Eddie, bringing one hand up in front of his face and using it to frantically bisect the air. He was desperate to have the matter settled, he just needed Richie to say four simple words. 

Richie swallowed. “I...I fucked your mother?” he offered softly, his eyes shining with tears as he focused them directly on Eddie’s. Eddie gazed into them, clearly seeing now that yes, they were indeed the same eyes he’d been so captivated by all those years ago. He didn’t waste one more second before he closed the space between them and launched himself into Richie’s arms with a choked sob, holding onto him so tightly that he thought the two of them might get stuck that way, and you know what, he wouldn’t even give a fuck if they did. He was never letting Richie go again, not for anything. 

“Eds,” Richie said in a choked voice as his arms wrapped around him protectively. “Is that you?”

“Yeah,” answered Eddie, his voice muffled as he buried his face in Richie’s neck. “I remember, I remember everything.” He felt Richie’s body break down into heaving sobs at the words as the other man’s arms tightened around him and held him close. They stood there like that for several minutes, their hearts beating against each other in time, and Eddie wondered how the hell he could have ever forgotten something so wonderful. Eventually they parted only enough for Eddie to take a good look at Richie’s face, which was stained with tears, his nose red and his glasses completely fogged up in a way that looked so comical that Eddie had to stifle a laugh. 

“The fuck you laughing at, you dick?” said Richie, smiling as he sniffed. 

“Your face,” said Eddie, reaching a hand up to remove Richie’s glasses, which he carefully tucked into the top of the other man’s shirt. “There, that’s better. Now I can see your eyes.”

“Congratulations, I can’t fucking see shit,” said Richie, taking the opportunity to start wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. Eddie reached up and tenderly took over, gently brushing the tears away with his sleeve. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Richie’s lips, and he felt the other man relax into him, bringing both arms back around him lovingly. 

“I’ve missed you, Eds,” Richie whispered against him. “I knew you’d come back to me eventually, though. You never could resist this snack.”

“Please shut up before I change my mind, dickwad,” muttered Eddie, taking the tear-stained glasses and plopping them back onto Richie’s face haphazardly with a smile. He had so many questions to ask, and he didn’t even know where to begin, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy being in the moment with his lost love. 

So naturally, just as with most things in life, something had to come along and rain on his parade. The dreaded beeping noise cut like a knife this time, because he knew he was about to lose Richie  _ again _ after having just found him, so to speak, and there would be no telling when he’d see him again. His entire core filled with panic, his arms wrapping so tightly around Richie that even  _ Eddie _ had trouble breathing. 

“No,” he whispered, his heart pounding as the beeping grew louder. “No. No, no...NO,” he screamed, starting to cry as he tried to press himself as close to Richie as possible and buried his face in his neck once more. “Make it stop, don’t leave me here!”

“Eddie,” said Richie quietly, rubbing small circles into Eddie’s back as he held him. 

“Make it stop!”

“Eddie, I can’t, but listen…”

“DON’T LEAVE ME!”

“Ed...Eds..EDDIE! Look at me,” Richie said, using one hand to cup Eddie’s face and turn it toward him. Eddie looked, struggling to breathe as he focused on Richie’s eyes, which were sorrowful but full of a sudden determination.

“I don’t want to black out again,” Eddie whimpered. 

“I know, Eds, but there’s nothing we can do about it. We don’t have time to talk now, and I promise I’ll explain everything later, ok, but for now just...keep calm and meet me at the clubhouse.”

“The clubhouse,” Eddie repeated slowly, images of an underground bunker filled with teenage creature comforts filling his mind. 

“The clubhouse,” Richie affirmed with a nod. “When you come to, go there and I’ll find you. I promise.”

“Ok,” Eddie agreed, and he kissed Richie one last time through his tears. He closed his eyes and grasped Richie’s hand, refusing to let go until eventually the void closed in and he drifted back into the sea of nothing, the last thing he heard being a hurried “OH YEAH, SHIT, I FORGOT, EVERYONE SAYS HI!”


	7. Chapter 7

“OH YEAH, SHIT, I FORGOT, EVERYONE SAYS HI!” Richie yelled out, hoping that Eddie could still hear him as the simulation evaporated around them and he was cruelly jerked back into his own body, which twitched as he started to fully regain awareness that he was no longer standing by the Kissing Bridge holding Eddie in his arms and thanking whatever force that may or may not be out there in the universe for finally giving them back to each other. No, instead he was just back in the godforsaken hospital room and Eddie was still unconscious and as unaware as ever. 

“There he is,” said Ben’s voice, the other man smiling widely as he began crossing the room toward Richie, a Starbucks cup in one hand. “How did it g-“

“You’ve got to put me back in!” Richie exclaimed, cutting Ben off and turning his attention immediately upon one of the assistants, who was in the process of typing something out on her laptop keyboard. “You’ve got to put both of us back in there  _ right now _ .” 

“Rich?” asked Beverly, concern in her voice as she got up from a nearby chair stolen from one of the hospital waiting rooms and stood beside Ben, both of them looking down at Richie worriedly. “Everything alright?”

“No, everything isn’t alright,” Richie replied, distressed, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the tears that were now beginning to leak from his physical eyes. “It’s Eddie, he...he remembers, he finally remembers me, you guys, all of it, and the fucking simulation ended and he’s so scared now so I have to go back in there,” he said, the words tumbling all over one another in a way that Eddie would surely be proud of if he could hear him. He cast a pleading look over to the program assistant as she continued to type up whatever report she was working on. “Please, I have to go back and make sure he’s ok.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I really wish I could help you, but the session is over for the day,” the woman replied with a sympathetic smile on his direction. “It’s protocol, I’m afraid we can’t just-“

“YOU HAVE TO!” Richie practically yelled, his desperation increasing with each passing second. “Please, I’ll...I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Richie,” said Bev gently, placing a hand on Richie’s shoulder, which he irritably shook off. 

“Anything,” Richie continued. “I’ll give you my house, I’ll give you my car, everything in my bank account...I’ll give you backstage passes to all of my shows for the rest of your fucking life, whatever you want, but you  _ have  _ to put us back into the simulation!” He honestly didn’t care what he had to do, but he knew he absolutely  _ would _ do whatever it took to get even five more minutes with Eddie so he could explain things, comfort him, be able to look into his eyes and  _ know _ that the other man knew exactly who he was and what they’d shared together, and that Eddie loved him back. He did. He hadn’t said it, but he hadn’t needed to. 

The woman looked uncomfortably over at Beverly and Ben for help. “I...I can’t just…”

“We know,” said Ben with an understanding nod. “Richie, calm down, man, please. Everything is gonna be fine, just-“

“NO!” cried Richie, batting the assistant’s hand away as she started to try to remove the nodes from his head. “No, I have to...I have...he’s alone…”

“I know, Richie, and I know you’re upset, but you have to calm down or they’re gonna throw you out,” said Bev sensibly as she knelt down to his level and looked him in the eyes. “You can’t be there for Eddie if you’re not allowed in the room, right?” she added, her voice soft and deliberately patient, as though she were speaking to a child. 

_ She’s right, you know. She may be talking to you like you’re fucking five, but she’s not wrong. You’re making a scene and you can’t afford a scene. Besides, didn’t you read somewhere that coma patients can hear you, sort of? You wanna stress Eddie out? Stop being a baby.  _

Richie inhaled slowly, letting the deep breath calm him down as the assistant took the opportunity of not being in the danger zone to quickly remove his nodes and start working on Eddie’s. 

“He remembers, guys,” he whispered weakly with a sniff as he accepted a clean tissue that Bev produced from her purse and started wiping his eyes with it. “He finally fucking remembers.”

“That’s good,” said Ben encouragingly, kneeling down to the level of the other two. “Next time you see him, tell him he can check out my ass as much as he wants once he’s awake.”

Beverly snorted and Richie cracked a smile in spite of himself. “You noticed that at the restaurant too, huh?” he said, looking down at the tissue as he crumpled it between his hands. 

“Hey, after all the work I put into obtaining this ass, I’d be offended if you guys  _ didn’t  _ look at it,” Ben pointed out. 

“It’s all going to be ok, Richie,” added Beverly with a small, comforting pat on Richie’s knee. “Hey, this is progress, look at it that way. The next session isn’t that far away.”

Richie sighed and reached forward, taking Eddie’s hand and rubbing it softly with his thumb as the assistant finished gathering her equipment and left the room. His friends were right, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier to just accept that he would be forced to wait it out until his next session. 

_ You’d better not forget me again between now and then, you little turd.  _

*****

An agonizing week and a half passed by before the next scheduled session, and if Richie thought the wait between visits with Eddie were brutal before, they were absolutely nothing compared to this one. Every day was a frustrating slog that he spent by Eddie’s bedside, talking to him and reading Buzzfeed articles from his phone out loud. He’d taken to reading to him because he had been recently told by the doctors that Eddie’s brain activity was showing marked improvement and that he may or may not be able to hear some of the conversation going on around him. The drugs keeping Eddie in his induced coma had been gradually lessened and then stopped, though Richie had been warned that even so, it may take an unknown amount of time for Eddie to actually awaken. 

So, a waiting game it remained, but it was certainly encouraging news that made Richie feel just a little bit better. He felt the least he could do was make sure that, if Eddie  _ could _ hear him, he at least wouldn’t be bored. But that didn’t mean that Richie wasn’t also enjoying taking the opportunity to annoy him just a little. Part of him hoped that one day, Eddie might get so irritated listening to him read articles like “29 Things Only 2000s Girls Understand” and “15 Hilarious Husband Fails” that he would be forced to wake up just so he could yank the phone out of Richie’s hands and throw it across the room. 

“Hey Eds, here’s a quiz that will tell me which 80s movie I am if I pick fifteen fast food condiments,” he said brightly one day as he gently stroked Eddie’s arm with one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. “I hope it tells me I’m  _ Ferris Bueller’s Day Off _ .” He entered the quiz and glanced down at the first question. “Oh what the fuck, it wants me to choose between mustard and hot sauce? Fuck all the way off, Buzzfeed.” 

“God, if he can hear you, he’s probably facepalming right now,” said Bill with an eye roll from where he sat over by the only window in the room, scrolling through his own phone. 

“You got a link to that quiz?” asked Mike in between sips of his coffee. “I kind of hope I’m  _ Ghostbusters _ .”

“Yeah, I’ll text it,” answered Richie. He glanced at the time on the top of his phone and then anxiously over at the door, trying not to be impatient. Today was supposed to be his and Eddie’s next session, so naturally, the staff was late. If they didn’t show up soon, he was pretty sure no amount of soothing words from any of his friends could prevent him from losing his shit this time. “You sure you don’t want in on this shit, Billy?”

“I’m good. I’m texting Audra.”

“He’s just mad cause he knows his result will probably be  _ Dirty Dancing _ ,” said Mike. 

“No,  _ Sixteen Candles _ ,” said Richie teasingly. 

“Fuck both of you, and we all know I’m  _ Beetlejuice _ ,” replied Bill, not even looking up from his phone. 

Richie opened his mouth to reply, but just then the door to Eddie’s room opened and all thoughts of condiments and movies flew straight out of the window as two lab assistants walked in, carrying all of the simulation equipment like manna from heaven. 

“How are we doing today?” asked one of them chipperly. “Are we all set to go?”

“Normally I would have some witty, comedic comeback for you, but to be honest, right now I couldn’t give less of a shit about literally anything except how fast you can hook us up to that thing,” said Richie excitedly, shoving his phone back into his pocket and watching the assistants like an eager puppy as they began setting up. It felt like it took forever, but at long last, he and Eddie were being fitted with the familiar nodes as one of the lab staff fired up their laptop and began executing the program. 

_ Please remember me,  _ Richie thought hopefully as Mike waved at him and Bill gave him a thumbs up for good luck.  _ Please, Eds. Please.  _

_ Please.  _

_ Please.  _

****

His transition into the simulation this time around wasn’t the smoothest it had ever been, mainly because he had been plopped directly into the middle of the woods and had landed right on top of a large fallen branch that had come mere inches away from having a very detrimental effect indeed on his sensitive bits. He said a silent prayer of thanks on behalf of his spared balls and shook his arms out, not even paying a bit of mind to the incessant buzzing in his ears. He had no patience for it this time, because the clock was already ticking and he had way more important things to focus on. He glanced around, gradually realizing that his landing spot wasn’t too far away from where the entrance to the clubhouse should be, and hoping to anything and everything that Eddie had remembered his parting words on their last encounter. 

“Eddie!” he called out, wondering if Eddie had even arrived yet after all. “Eddieeeee!” He walked forward, gazing around and eagerly looking for any trace of the man. “Eddie! Are you here- FUCK!” He let out a scream as he very suddenly and rudely discovered that the trap door into the underground clubhouse was actually much closer than he thought. He crashed right through the open door and landed with a hard THUNK on his ass, a stack of comics on the floor thankfully breaking the worst of his fall. 

“Motherfucker son of a bitch,” he groaned as he stood up and cautiously patted his own butt. It didn’t hurt nearly as badly as he thought it would, probably because this wasn’t actually his body.  _ Well thank Christ for science, huh.  _

“Not exactly the most graceful entrance I’ve ever seen, but I’m gonna go ahead and give that landing ten points for being entertaining,” said a very familiar and very welcome voice. “But seriously, bro, there’s a ladder there for a reason.”

Richie’s stomach fluttered as he turned around and saw that Eddie was already there, casually swinging in the same hammock the two of them had playfully fought over all those years ago, dressed in a tight, black T-shirt and jeans that made Richie’s heart race. 

“Eddie?” he said cautiously, not daring to hope that it was the whole and complete version of Eddie until he heard proof from the man’s own mouth. 

“Hi, Richie,” said Eddie, smiling, his dark eyes shining with a happiness that Richie hadn’t actually seen on him since they were children. 

“Eds,” he breathed out, practically bursting with joy as he realized with relief that it really was Eddie and he really did still remember. He crossed the floor in less than two seconds and watched with amusement as Eddie tried to get out of the hammock to greet him. 

“This thing was a lot easier to get into than it is to get out of,” Eddie grumbled, his limbs flailing as he desperately attempted to escape his netted prison. “A little help?” he asked Richie, who felt himself start to grin like an idiot. 

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie asked incredulously.

“Stay in the hammock,” said Richie with a mischievous smile. “It’s sexy.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he said, trying to sound annoyed even though Richie could clearly see the smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“I kid you not,” Richie assured him. “This is pinup material.”

“Can’t believe I missed out on such smooth pickup lines all of these many decades,” mumbled Eddie. “Ok, Casanova, if you’re not gonna help me out of here, you’re gonna have to get in with me.” 

“Was that a direct order?”

“Yes,” replied Eddie, his smile growing slightly bigger.

“I don’t knooooow,” said Richie exaggeratedly, pretending to check the time on an imaginary watch. “I don’t think your ten minutes are quite up yet.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “I don’t see any sign,” he said mockingly. 

“Verbal agreement.”

“Oh my god, just shut up and get in the damn hammock,” Eddie ordered him, and Richie didn’t need to be told again. It was an awkward few moments of the two of them struggling to adjust their arms and legs into a comfortable position, but finally Richie was settled half on top of Eddie inside the hammock, his head resting on the other man’s chest like a pillow with Eddie’s arms wrapped around him securely. It wasn’t the most elegant position in the world, considering that the bottom half of Richie’s legs were dangling completely off the hammock due to his height, but as far as he was concerned, it was perfect. 

“That’s better,” said Eddie happily, placing a soft kiss on the top of Richie’s head. 

“Not gonna lie, this was pretty much exactly what I was hoping for the last time we shared this stupid hammock,” said Richie, his fingers delicately tracing invisible patterns on the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. His body let out an involuntary shiver of happiness as he felt Eddie’s fingers start playing with his hair. 

Eddie smiled down at him. “Uh-huh, and why do you think I picked a fight with you? Spoiler, it wasn’t because I wanted the hammock to myself.”

“So you admit you walked right into my carefully laid trap,” said Richie. 

“Whatever, smartass,” said Eddie with a happy grin. He leaned down and Richie met him halfway, catching their lips together in a soft, tender kiss that Richie still couldn’t quite believe was happening. After so many years of his youth spent silently pining for Eddie, never daring to dream that they could actually become a reality, and so many more lonely ones wasted with no memory of him, Richie felt like he was dreaming every time he was lucky enough to have Eddie’s lips on his. Well, considering their situation, he supposed he technically  _ was _ dreaming, but still. 

“God, have I mentioned how much I’ve fucking missed you?” Richie murmured against Eddie’s lips, stars dancing behind his closed eyelids. 

Eddie kissed him back in reply, deeper this time, one hand gently cupping Richie’s cheek. “I know,” he whispered as their lips finally parted. “I didn’t even know how much I actually missed you until now.” Richie couldn’t even form a reply; he was so overwhelmed with an assortment of different feelings that were all battling inside of him. All he could do was settle his head back down onto Eddie’s chest and hold on to him as tightly as their cramped quarters would allow. They lay there like that in peaceful silence for a little while, Richie allowing himself to fully relax into Eddie for a brief reprieve and wishing it were somehow possible for them to melt together and never have to be apart again for even a moment. 

“So,” said Eddie after a few minutes, his voice breaking the quiet of their underground hideaway. “Obviously, I have some questions.”

Richie smiled warmly. “There he is, there’s my Eds.”

“I believe you explicitly promised me an explanation,” Eddie pointed out, his fingers threading soothingly through Richie’s hair. 

“Mmm. So I did,” Richie murmured, his voice slightly muffled due to his face being half buried against Eddie’s shirt. “Fire away, my love.”

“I guess my first question is just...what the fuck, man?” Eddie asked, his voice sounding tired. “The last thing I remember before meeting you again at the inn was bleeding out on the ground inside that fucking sewer. What the hell happened between there and here? Where is “here,” exactly? It feels like home but it’s different. Am I dead? Are  _ we _ dead? Is this all some hallucination or something?”

Richie sighed heavily. He hadn’t been looking forward to this conversation. He had never been good at delivering upsetting news to anybody, but this wasn’t just anyone, this was Eddie, and this was going to be  _ extremely  _ upsetting news. 

“Ok, ok, one question at a time,” he said, his hand finding one of Eddie’s and grabbing onto it for security. “First of all, you are  _ not _ dead, I cannot stress that enough.”

“Really?” He felt Eddie let out a breath he must have been holding in anxiety. “You’re positive?”

“No,” Richie assured him. “I mean, yes, I’m positive, but no, you’re not dead. I should know, I fought tooth and nail to make sure you didn’t fuckin die on me down there.”

“It’s just...it got so dark in there, and I couldn’t see or hear you anymore. And when I finally remembered everything, I thought…” Eddie trailed off, his breath shaky. Richie clumsily adjusted himself, maneuvering his body so that he could rest his chin on Eddie’s chest and look up at him. 

“I won’t lie, you almost did die, Eds,” he said solemnly, inwardly wincing at the painful memory. “When we first got you out and I had you in my arms, I was positive you were going to leave us, but you were still hanging on. You’ve been in the hospital since then.”

“The hospital….” Eddie murmured, his brow furrowing as he processed this news. “As in, I’m in the hospital now?”

“Yes.”

“For how long??”

“A couple of months now,” replied Richie. “You were hurt pretty bad and you’ve been in a coma, but actually the doctors say you could be waking up soon, so-“

“So what the fuck is this?” Eddie asked, glancing around at their surroundings as he interrupted Richie’s sentence. “ _ How _ bad was I hurt exactly? Where the hell are we?” His voice was becoming more and more panicky, his breath coming out in short, rapid bursts. Richie reached one hand up and gently stroked circles into the skin of Eddie’s collarbone. 

“Shhh,” he whispered soothingly. “Breathe, Eds. Everything is ok, I was just getting to that part.” He launched into an abridged explanation of Eddie’s medical state and how the simulation worked, hoping he had remembered all the technical aspects correctly. He didn’t think he did a very good job at relaying exactly how it was possible, but Eddie did slowly seem to calm down as he spoke, which was really the only important thing. 

“Ok, so let me see if I have this straight,” said Eddie slowly, delicately twisting strands of Richie’s hair absentmindedly around his fingers as a coping mechanism. “Basically, right now, as we speak, I’m in bed in a coma, with a gaping hole in my body, and you’re, what…?”

“Sitting in a chair by your bed,” answered Richie helpfully. “And I wouldn’t call it  _ gaping _ , you’ve had a bunch of surgeries and it’s healing pretty well.”

“Right. Ok. Whatever. So I’m half gaping in a bed, you’re in a chair, neither of us are conscious, and our brains are in a giant video game?”

“Pretty much,” said Richie. 

“So my blackouts… they’re not actually blackouts, they’re just the end of the simulations or whatever?”

“Yeah,” replied Richie. “I tried to tell you last time but I didn’t get a chance.”

“For fuck’s sake, this sounds like one of Bill’s shitty fucking books,” said Eddie. “Wait, what about my job? Does anyone have my phone? I must have so many missed calls…. fuck. I’m so fucking fired…..Oh no… the divorce lawyer. I was supposed to call...fuuuuck, has Myra tried to… wait, does she even know I almost died?”

Richie gave him a sheepish smile. “I maaaaay have not even bothered to get in touch with her.”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? I don’t want to go back to whatever’s left of my body. I won’t even know where to begin with all of those messes I’m gonna have to clean up.”

“Hey, asshole, you’re most  _ definitely _ going back into your actual body,” Richie said pointedly. “Which is  _ fine _ and is going to make a full recovery, by the way. I didn’t drag your tiny asthmatic ass out of the dungeon of Satan for you to give up on me now.” He leaned up and caught Eddie’s lips in a light kiss that was just enough for the other man to relax ever so slightly and kiss him back. 

“I got you,” Richie promised him, settling back down onto Eddie’s chest as if it were a pillow. “I’m here for you. You’re not doing any of this alone. If I have to help you slay the dragon known as Myra, I will.”

“I can handle Myra myself, but thanks,” said Eddie. 

“Just offering my services,” said Richie, placing a kiss onto Eddie’s chest. They settled back into silence, just holding onto one another. Richie could sense that the overload of information was taking a toll on Eddie, and it killed him that he didn’t know how to make the news pack any less of a devastating punch for him. If there was a way that he could take all of Eddie’s physical and emotional pain and just put it all on himself instead, he would have gladly done so with zero hesitation. He was still lost in those thoughts when he felt Eddie’s chest rising and falling in short bursts and realized that the other man was crying softly. 

“Eds?” he said quietly, glancing up to see Eddie’s scrunched up face as tears flowed freely down his cheeks. “Eddie, what’s the matter?” 

Eddie sniffed loudly. “Nothing.”

“Eddie, there’s being a terrible liar and then there’s just being an insulting fucking liar,” said Richie dryly. “Come on, talk to me.”

Eddie looked down at him, his dark eyes brimming with fresh tears. “It’s just...oh, Richie…” His breath caught in his throat as he brought one hand up to cover his eyes. 

“Eds..”

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie managed to croak out in between sobs. “It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?“ asked Richie, genuinely confused. 

“Sorry for ruining your life,” Eddie responded with a whimper. “Both of our lives. I ruined both our lives.”

“How the actual fuck do you figure you ruined-“

“Because I knew how you felt about me back then and I didn’t do a thing about it,” Eddie blurted out, the words suddenly shooting out of him like cannonballs. “And I should have, I fucking should have, because you weren’t the only one, ok?  _ You weren’t the only one _ . I felt exactly the same about you. I did. And I never fucking told you because I was so scared of my own feelings that I pushed them down even though I wanted you so badly it physically hurt sometimes. I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I hurt you, and I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry we wasted three goddamn decades because of me and my fears...I’m just...I’m sorry…” Eddie’s tirade trailed away into heaving sobs, and Richie could swear that he felt his own heart physically break in half as he scrambled to maneuver himself out of the hammock. 

“Eddie...babe….no...just... _ no _ ,” he said calmly, standing up and grabbing onto Eddie’s hands. He pulled him out of the netting and helped him up, never letting go of his hands as they stood and faced each other. He lifted a hand and gently wiped away the tears from one side of the other man’s face. 

“Eddie, listen to me. None of that is your fault,” he said. “Ok? None of it. I just as easily could have told you how I felt, and I didn’t, so it’s just as much on me as it is on you.”

Eddie sniffed. “But all the time we could have been together…”

“For all we know, we might not even have been together all that time,” Richie pointed out. “Remember, Derry has some fucked up memory charm going on. It’s entirely possible we would have forgotten each other regardless until we came back. That wouldn’t be either of our faults, that’s pretty much just another way that Pennyshitface was going to fuck us over no matter what.”

Eddie looked down at the ground. “I guess…”

Richie nodded knowingly. “The important thing here is that we  _ did _ find each other again, and we aren’t going to waste any  _ more _ time. We have a lot of years left to annoy each other to death, if you’re still up for that.” He looked into Eddie’s eyes, which were staring deeply into his, almost searchingly. Whatever it was that Eddie was looking for, he seemed to have finally found it. He took a deep breath and let it back out slowly before he grabbed Richie and pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing their bodies close together and resting his head in the crook of Richie’s shoulder. 

“I love you, Richie Tozier,” he whispered faintly, and a warmth spread throughout Richie’s body as he took in the words he never dreamed he would actually hear coming from Eddie’s mouth. “God, that felt so good to finally say.” He pulled back from their hug and smiled at him, a beautiful sight that Richie knew would never leave his memories for as long as he lived. 

“I love you too, Eddie Kaspbrak,” Richie replied. “I’ve waited almost thirty years to say it, but better late than never, right?”

Eddie laughed. “Come here, shithead,” he said with a grin, grabbing the back of Richie’s head and crashing their lips together in a heated kiss that set every nerve in Richie’s body on fire. He didn’t know how he had ever lived for so many years without this, the pure magic that was the feeling of being touched like this, loved and wanted by the only person he’d ever wanted it from. Being so close to Eddie was intoxicating in a way he’d never felt in his entire life. 

_ Beep _

_ Beep _

_ Beeeeeep _

Richie heard himself let out an actual scream of anguish as the signal of the impending end of the simulation sounded throughout the clubhouse. He pulled Eddie as close as possible, wrapping his arms around him like a vice. It occurred to him that he hadn’t yet told Eddie that there was only one session left after this, and he felt ice settle in his stomach as he wondered how he was ever going to survive once they were out of time and he had to go back to endlessly waiting for his lover to physically return home. 

“I don’t want to go,” he heard Eddie cry softly into his neck. 

“No choice, my love,” replied Richie sadly. “Just look for me when you come back here, ok?” 

“I’ll find you,” promised Eddie. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

The blinding white closed in, and Richie closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to actually watch Eddie fade away from him yet again. It was like a knife to the gut every time, but this time in particular was so much worse. When he opened them again, he was back in the hospital chair, Eddie was in his bed, and all of the Losers were scattered around the room, looking at him expectantly but not saying anything. It was as though they could all sense that Richie was emotionally drained and didn’t have the energy to form a decent sentence.

That’s not to say that he wasn’t grateful for their presence, however, because when his bottom lip started to quiver and fresh tears started to well up in his eyes from the staggering amount of emotions he had experienced in the last hour, the four of them immediately gravitated toward him and enveloped him in a giant group hug. They surrounded him like a security blanket as he rode out his cry, and when he was finished they gladly gave him his space without him having to say a word. They filed out of the room one by one, each of them leaving him with a small token of affection as they made their exit. Shoulder pats from Bill and Mike, a gentle tap on the arm from Ben, a motherly kiss on the forehead from Beverly. And when Richie was alone at last, he pulled his chair as close to Eddie’s bed as possible and positioned the top half of his body so that he could lay his head down gently on the other man’s chest. Well, as best he could without disturbing any of the tubes connecting Eddie to all his machinery, anyway. 

“Eds?” he whispered softly. “Can you hear me?” He waited fruitlessly for the response he knew wasn’t coming, and soon fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. 

_ At first, he didn’t realize he was in the Deadlights. He thought he must have fallen asleep, or gotten drunk, or maybe he was dead, maybe the clown had finally gotten him and this was what the afterlife was going to be like. It looked an awful lot like his house in LA, which was disappointing at first, until he realized it was the same and yet...different. It was neater. Brighter. More tastefully decorated. There were actual curtains on the windows and photos in frames filling the walls and end tables. He looked closer at the photos and sucked in a breath as he realized what they were.  _

_ Wedding pictures, he and Eddie smiling widely at the camera in their matching suits as their friends made goofy faces in the background.  _

_ Pictures of himself and Eddie sitting on the house’s front stoop with a fluffy white dog settled between them.  _

_ Pictures from many Halloweens in coordinated couples costumes.  _

_ Christmas pictures. Birthday pictures. Photos that documented a life he didn’t remember living but oh, how he yearned to experience with every beat of his heart.  _

_ The front door opened and shut, and footsteps sounded down the hall toward the living room. He turned, his heart pounding as Eddie walked in, undoing his tie and setting his briefcase down against the wall.  _

_ “Hey, baby,” Eddie said, crossing over to him and kissing him softly on the lips. “How was your day?” _

_ He didn’t know how to respond. He caught a glimpse of a shiny gold wedding band on Eddie’s finger and dared to chance a look down at his own hand, which spotted a perfectly matching one. He looked back at Eddie, his eyes wide with shock as he opened his mouth to try to form a sentence.  _

_ And then, as quickly as it had appeared, the house, the pictures, everything vanished, all except for Eddie, whose expression changed from one of happy love to one of shock and despair as dark blood poured from his mouth. Richie looked down, shouting out in horror as the large, sharp claw pierced straight through Eddie’s body, the other man crying out in pain as he fell backwards into a black void, reaching his arms out for Richie, who couldn’t grab onto him no matter how hard he tried.  _

_ “EDDIEEEE!” he cried out.  _

_ And then he came to, still in the sewer with Eddie on top of him, proudly telling him it was over, he’d killed It, he’d done it…. _

His eyes fluttered open, his body screaming in discomfort from the awkward position he had fallen asleep in. He blinked behind the glasses he had neglected to remove, trying to adjust his eyes to the ugly fluorescent lighting of the room that he had forgotten to turn off before he’d settled in for his nap. Something felt strange, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It took him a moment of slowly waking up and processing his surroundings before he realized that it was the top of his head that felt weird. Almost like there was a hand on it. 

Wait. 

_ Wait.  _

He closed his eyes again and kept them tightly shut, trying to focus on the unexpected sensation while shutting everything else out. He didn’t want to open them, didn’t want to look and see that he was actually hallucinating, because as long as he kept them closed, he could still feel it, still feel that very familiar tingle of long, graceful fingers in his hair that could only belong to…

No. 

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He lay there for several minutes, his heart racing so hard in his chest that it actually hurt. He waited for the hand on his head to disappear like a ghost, but it didn’t. He could still feel it, weak and feather-light but still there, gently and lovingly stroking his hair. He swallowed, wanting so badly to just open his eyes and look, but not knowing if he could handle the possibility that he was wrong. 

At last, after what seemed like years, he gathered up all the courage he could muster and opened his eyes, turning his head so that he could see Eddie. He expected to see the same thing he’d seen every day and night for countless weeks; Eddie laying there perfectly still, his eyes closed and the rest of his face obscured by the medical devices helping to keep him alive. 

Well, he  _ did _ see that. Mostly. There was one very important difference in the details, though. 

A pair of beautiful, chocolate colored,  _ open _ eyes were looking right back at him. 

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter turned out to be super long, so settle in with a sandwich or something cause you’ll be here for a while. Also, there’s no simulation in this chapter. CW for very brief descriptions of medical procedures (they are not too detailed or graphic at all, but just in case). Happy reading!

_ Beep _

_ Beep _

_ Beep _

The garish, staticky whiteness enveloped him on all sides, making it impossible to see anything but the endless, but now familiar, expanse of nonexistence. Under normal circumstances, this would have frightened him and sent him desperately reaching for his inhaler for much needed psychological security. This time was different, though. He wasn’t in the least bit scared or anxious. On the contrary, he was filled with exuberant joy, because now he knew that the nothingness was not a threat at all, but a promise that he would soon be back in some semblance of a world he knew, and, more importantly, he would be back with the love he’d been waiting for forever. 

_ Beep _

_ Beep _

He frowned slightly, trying to recall if he’d ever heard a beeping noise  _ prior to  _ a simulation before. He was pretty sure he hadn’t, but then again, he hadn’t exactly been himself recently, had he? Besides, this noise was different from the one that annoyed the shit out of him at the end of every session, and anyway, who gave a fuck? Certainly not him. He was too busy mentally listing all the parts of Richie he was planning to kiss once they were reunited. 

_ Beep _

Obviously, he’d start with his lips, because tradition. 

_ Beep _

Then he was going to move on to his neck, cause he’d been dying to kiss it for almost thirty years, and…

_ Beep _

The whiteness shifted slightly, became a little less blinding, and Eddie stopped thinking about Richie’s collarbone for a moment and blinked as the nothing began to dissolve and change into something ...else. He squinted, trying to make any sense of what he was seeing, but he could barely bring anything into focus. He thought he could see a small room, a window, maybe a chair? This was  _ definitely  _ new, he’d never experienced this before in any of the other sessions. 

Without warning, an unexplainable feeling overtook his body, like an invisible hook had been placed behind his naval and was dragging him downward to god only knew where. He panicked and tried to scream, but found that he couldn’t make any noise at all, nor could he do anything except allow whatever was happening to, well, happen. Thankfully, frightening as it was, it didn’t last long, but when it was over, he felt undeniably different. His body felt heavier, there was inexplicable, borderline unbearable pressure in his throat. Literally everything hurt, a dull, steady ache that overtook his entire body and made every breath a laborious experience. 

_ What the fuck is happening to me?  _

If he hadn’t been scared before, he  _ definitely  _ was now. He tried to call out for help, but the pressure in his throat made that next to impossible. His heart raced as he used what little strength he could muster to turn his head, which was when he discovered two things at once: he was clearly in a hospital room, and he wasn’t alone; there was a heavily sleeping figure sitting in a chair beside his bed. 

_ Richie! Oh, thank fucking Christ.  _

He was so relieved to see Richie that he forgot that he couldn’t talk until his frantic cry of the other man’s name came out as a wheezing breath instead of any discernible speech. Richie slept on, his face smushed up against the side of the bed, his glasses half pushed up on one side of his face and his mouth slightly open. 

It was truly adorable in a way only Richie could make it, and if Eddie were able to focus on anything else but the extreme discomfort he’d suddenly found himself in, he would have gladly watched the other man sleep like that for hours. 

Right now, however, Richie was his only lifeline, so he kind of needed for him to wake up. He wiggled his fingers experimentally, trying to gain some sort of control over his own body, which wasn’t easy since he had almost zero strength to work with. Lifting his hand was a chore, and moving his arm was actual torture, but he summoned every ounce of power he could manage and forced himself to do so, inch by inch, until his hand landed on top of Richie’s head with a light tap. He let it rest there for a moment as he settled further into this new and quite unwelcome version of his physical existence. 

_ Ok, see? That wasn’t so bad. I got this. You gotta wake up though, Richie, ‘cause this new reality is fucking ASS and I hate it.  _

He moved his hand in tiny increments up and down on top of the other man’s head, the movements getting a tiny bit easier the more he did them until he was lightly stroking Richie’s hair. He wasn’t sure how well that was going to work for waking Richie up, since if his childhood memories were any indication, the man could sleep like the dead, but it felt nice and it served as a good way to calm Eddie down a little as he got used to…. whatever the fuck this was. 

It seemed like it took forever, but Richie finally began to stir in his sleep, his breath coming out ragged as he dealt with whatever it was he was dreaming about. 

“Eddieeee,” he called out softly, still unconscious, his voice tearful and full of distress.  _ Ok, so, bad dream.  _ Richie’s face scrunched up unhappily, and Eddie longed to scoop him up, comfort him, and kiss the tears away, but all he was physically capable of doing was continue to gently run his fingers through the wild, disheveled brown hair and hope that the other man would awaken soon. 

As it turned out, he didn’t have much longer to wait. He saw Richie open his eyes, watched as he definitely felt Eddie’s hand on his head, and waited as he closed his eyes again and had what Eddie could almost sense was a silent and heated debate with himself over whether he really felt what he thought he felt. At last, Richie’s eyes opened back up and he turned his head to look in Eddie’s direction, a shocked expression on his face as he realized that Eddie was, in fact, staring back at him.

“Eds,” he whispered, so quietly that Eddie could barely hear him, although, to be fair, he couldn’t hear much anyway over the beeping of the machines in the room. Richie’s eyes searched Eddie’s, as though he were still convinced that this was a dream somehow and he wanted to be absolutely sure it was real before he really reacted. It was a feeling Eddie could relate to well, and he fucking cursed the fact that he couldn’t speak to make the whole process easier on both of them. He settled for using what strength he had left in him to softly cup Richie’s cheek for a second or two, before said hand flopped back down onto the bed in defeat. 

“Eddie!” Richie blurted out, practically flying up from his chair and leaning over Eddie’s body, staring at his face intently, his eyes wide and full of hope. “Oh my god, EDDIE!” He took one of Eddie’s exhausted hands and held it tightly as he looked him up and down. “Say something.. wait… no, you can’t, that’s right, the tube. Um...ok… blink once if I’m not just having hallucinations from that questionable cafeteria food, ok? Please.”

Eddie did so, closing his eyes as tightly as he could to prove his point before he opened them back up to see Richie, covering his mouth in disbelief with his free hand, his eyes shining with happy tears behind his glasses. The next thing Eddie knew, he had an elated pile of softly crying Richie draped across his chest as the other man hugged him, careful to avoid disturbing any of the many wires and tubes that Eddie had coming out of him like tentacles on some freakish alien in a sci-fi movie. 

“Eds…” Richie whispered the name like a prayer through his tears as Eddie weakly stroked his hair. A wheezing sound was all Eddie could manage to make in response, which prompted Richie to stand back up and look down at him in concern. 

“Oh my fuck, right, I’m so sorry, Eds, I’ll get a doctor… stay right there, I’m getting a… I’ll be right back, I swear!” Richie promised, squeezing his hand once more before he almost tripped over his own feet rushing out of the room. Eddie could hear him running down the hallway outside of the room, and he suddenly felt sorry for any other patients who might happen to be on the floor as Richie shouted, loud enough to wake the dead, “SOMEONE PLEASE GET YOUR ASS TO ROOM 608, HE’S AWAKE, FUCK YEAH, HE’S AWAKE!”

Within thirty seconds, Eddie could no longer see anything around him except a flurry of doctors and nurses poking and prodding at him while Richie stood close by his side, one of Eddie’s hands held securely in both of his. The pain throughout his body intensified as the staff worked on him, and he silently wished to be put back under several times as the uncomfortable tube in his throat was removed. Richie had made it clear that he was free to squeeze his hand as hard as he wanted when the pain became too much, but all Eddie could do was weakly press down on it. Richie understood all the same, though, and soothingly rubbed the back of his hand until it was all over. 

The whole thing seemed to take hours, and perhaps it did, but when it was all said and done, Eddie had been thoroughly examined from head to toe and was finally left alone with fresh sheets, an extra pillow, and a pitcher of water on his bedside table, with strict instructions to get some rest and not try to speak too much before the next morning. The doctors planned to run a battery of new tests on him then, but in the meantime, it was just him and Richie, together in the real world at long last. Which would have been perfect if not for the ugly, sterile medical environment and the fact that Richie looked relieved but so damn anxious at the same time, like he was afraid that Eddie might break into pieces at any moment now that he was missing half of the equipment he’d been hooked up to for so long. 

Eddie gave him his best  _ What are you staring at, dickwad??  _ face in hopes of lightening the mood, and was rewarded with a small smile from Richie, who pushed his chair as close to him as possible and sat with his arms folded onto the bed so that he could rest his chin on them. 

“How ya holding up, Eds?” he said softly as their eyes locked. “I mean, don’t answer me, you’re supposed to rest your throat. I know that’s gonna be torture for you because the one thing you love doing more than anything is running your mouth.” 

_ You wanna be the pot or the kettle, dingus?  _ Eddie gave him a disapproving frown in reply, which caused Richie’s smile to widen.

“Ok, so, since your mouth is out of commission, just use your fingers,” said Richie. “And no, for once, I’m not making a sexual pun,” he added when Eddie raised his eyebrows suggestively. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is your pain? Are the drugs kicking in yet?”

Eddie thought about it and feebly held up six fingers before changing his mind and putting one finger back down. 

“Oh, good,” said Richie, relieved. “I mean, not  _ good _ , obviously, because your goal is zero, or one to three fingers, but, you know, five is better than ten. Which I’m assuming is also true of sex. That was an actual joke, you may laugh.” Eddie couldn’t help but snort at the lame but endearing joke, which turned into an impromptu cough that felt like razor blades in his throat. He gestured frantically to the water pitcher, and Richie sprang into action, quickly pouring some of the liquid into one of the plastic cups next to it and handing it over to Eddie. He helpfully held the cup steady when Eddie couldn’t quite grasp it, and watched worriedly as he drank it. 

“That’s it, Eds. Small sips.” Eddie winced as the cold water interacted with his irritated throat, but he pressed on until the cup was half empty and he couldn’t handle a drop more. Richie placed the cup back on the table and repositioned himself next to the bed, reaching one hand up and lovingly brushing a lock of hair out of Eddie’s eyes.

“You are gonna  _ haaaate _ how long your hair has grown since you’ve been here, babe,” he said with an amused smile, and Eddie momentarily forgot about his various aches and pains. He looked to Richie questioningly, and the other man dug his phone out of his pocket, putting the camera in selfie mode before holding it in front of Eddie’s face. 

_ Oh GOD _ , Eddie thought, horrified at the realization that his carefully maintained hair had grown to resemble something more akin to a wild, untamed forest that perfectly matched his sunken eyes and the sallow skin of someone who had been locked away in a hospital room for the better part of two months.  _ I look like a fucking zombie. People are going to see me and run away screaming in the other direction.  _

“I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry, it’s sexy, in a Captain Jack Sparrow sort of way,” teased Richie with a laugh when Eddie made a face of visible disgust and pushed the phone away. He didn’t care how sexy Richie thought it was, the first thing he was going to do when he got out of there was make a beeline for the nearest salon. He brought a hand up to his cheek, having been reminded by the camera of his unsolicited knife wound courtesy of Henry Bowers. It had settled from the gaping hole he remembered into an angry looking red scar that felt absolutely disgusting beneath his fingertips. 

_ And yet, my hair is actually more upsetting to me. Huh. Weird.  _

Richie narrowed his eyes as he watched Eddie’s fingers brush against the scar. “Ugh, fuckin Bowers,” he muttered angrily. “He's lucky he lived as long as he did after that, because if I had seen him attack you I would have killed him a lot sooner, that son of a-“ He stopped when Eddie shifted in the bed, wincing at the slight aching that still poked through the painkillers, and laboriously scooted himself over as far to the side as he could. He patted the now empty spot beside him and looked hopefully at Richie, who looked unsure. 

“I don’t know, Eds, what about germs?”

Eddie frowned and shook his head. He didn’t give a single fuck about germs. He was starting to feel overwhelmed and all he wanted right then was to hold onto something familiar and safe. He held his arms out and gave a pleading look to Richie, who instantly caved and slipped off his sneakers and jacket. Gingerly, he climbed into the bed, settled himself into a sitting position and wrapped his arms securely around Eddie, who rested his head on his chest and let out a contented sigh. The steady thump of Richie’s heartbeat and the clean scent of his Irish Spring body wash was doing more to dull the pain than the actual medicine coursing through his system ever could. 

“You wanna try to sleep?” asked Richie. Eddie shook his head as vigorously as he was able. The  _ last _ thing he wanted to do was sleep, even though the events of the last few hours had, admittedly, thoroughly exhausted him. He was afraid that if he fell asleep, he may not wake up for another two months, if ever again. Richie seemed to understand completely, because he nodded thoughtfully and added, “You want me to just talk to you for a while?” 

Eddie smiled and nodded affirmatively. He grabbed one of Richie’s hands, bringing it up to his lips to place a tender kiss on it before he gently turned it over, palm side up. Carefully, he used one finger to softly trace a heart shape into Richie’s skin and watched his face to make sure he understood. 

Richie looked down at their hands, visibly swallowing as he returned his gaze. “I love you too,” he said with an adoring smile as he pressed a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. Eddie snuggled closer to him and draped one arm over his soft middle as he let the soothing sound of Richie’s voice comfort him. 

“So, Eduardo, lemme tell you all about how our traitorous friends started a betting pool over us when we were kids…”

******

Four days later, Eddie was far from feeling one hundred percent; he didn’t even feel a full fifty percent, but he  _ did _ feel several degrees better than he had when he’d first been plopped back into his traumatized body. For one thing, he could speak again, sort of. He couldn’t do it for long, and his voice sounded like a cross between a frog and a malfunctioning robot, but at least he could form simple sentences without having to resort to writing everything down on the tiny whiteboard he’d been given by the hospital staff. Secondly, he’d been able to brush his teeth and even managed to take a couple of very welcome showers. Granted, it had been with a ton of assistance from a nurse, and he’d had to do it sitting down because he lacked the strength to stand, but it had felt like heaven all the same. Richie had tried to insist on helping him, but Eddie had hotly countered back, via the whiteboard, that he would be damned if the first time Richie saw him naked was going to be while he was struggling to hold on to the metal bar inside the shower with a gross wound covering half of his body. Under a shit ton of bandages, but still. He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, that Richie would see all of him eventually, but he could at least stave it off for awhile while he waited for it to become less ugly. 

Last, though certainly not least, Richie had been so eager to indulge him in any way he could that he’d somehow managed to find and pay a hairdresser who was willing to make a special stop at the hospital just to cut and fix Eddie’s hair. The gesture was honestly one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for him, and cemented the decision in Eddie’s mind that he was definitely going to marry that man one day. Far in the future. Preferably when he looked less like an extra on  _ The Walking Dead  _ and didn’t have to croak out his vows. 

“There, are you happy now? You’re classic movie star gorgeous again instead of ‘90s grunge gorgeous,” said Richie teasingly after the hairdresser had left. 

“Yes,” replied Eddie as Richie helped him back into his bed and he settled against his pillows. “I don’t feel greasy and disgusting anymore, so thank you.”

“Any time, babe,” said Richie, leaning down and giving him a tender kiss on the lips, which Eddie enthusiastically returned. 

“Well, there’s a sight I never thought I’d live to see,” said a voice from the doorway. Eddie and Richie broke away from their kiss and turned to see Bill entering the room, followed closely by Mike, Beverly, and lastly, Ben, who was bearing an elaborate bouquet of colorful flowers in a glass vase, onto which was tied a blue Mylar balloon emblazoned with the words  _ Get Well Soon _ . 

“Hi, guys!” Eddie exclaimed in his gravelly voice. He’d been looking forward to this visit ever since Richie had called the other Losers to inform them of the good news that he was awake, but Eddie had been the one to insist that they wait until he felt and looked halfway human. He smiled happily as Bill rushed over first and hugged him tightly. “Hey, Billy,” he said, patting Bill on the back as he joyfully returned the hug. 

“Thank god you’re ok,” said Bill, sounding close to tears as he placed an affectionate kiss on the top of Eddie’s freshly styled head. “I’m so sorry this happened, I never should have-“

“It’s ok, Billy,” Eddie assured him as they broke from the hug. “Just make sure you dedicate your next book to your best friend and endless source of inspiration, Edward Kaspbrak.”

Bill laughed, wiping a tear away with his hand. “It’s a promise,” he said, stepping back so that Ben could move in. 

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” he said as he gave Eddie a small, quick hug. 

“Thanks for helping to drag me out of that hellhole,” replied Eddie with a smile. “Richie told me if it wasn’t for you I would have been stuck down there.”

“It was nothing,” said Ben with a shy shrug, setting the flowers down on the bedside table. 

“No, no,” Eddie insisted. “Really. It saved me so that I could live to tell you that  _ is _ one fine ass,” he said, holding one hand up for Richie to slap in a high five as Ben smiled and shook his head. 

“I also told him what you said the other day,” said Richie proudly. 

“Yes, I can see that,” replied Ben, amused. “Well, feel free to look at it. A lot of gym hours went into it.”

“Yeah, yeah, look but don’t touch,” cut in Beverly good-naturedly as she took her turn to wrap Eddie in an affectionate embrace. “How you feeling, honey?” she asked. 

“Not great, but I’m getting better every day,” replied Eddie.

“The doctors say he’s a medical miracle,” Richie bragged with a grin. “Not nearly as much damage as there should have been, considering what happened. He’s going to make a full recovery.”

“I have a feeling that’s because a lot of things were undone after Pennywise disappeared,” said Mike as he hugged Eddie and patted him gently on the shoulder. “Have any of you noticed our scars are nearly gone from our palms?”

Everyone collectively looked down at their hands. Eddie hadn’t even remembered his scar from the blood oath until just then, but sure enough, Mike was right. The scar was still there, but it was decidedly less visible now, barely a light pink line that just as well could have been mistaken for a normal crease in his skin. 

“Jesus, he’s right,” said Richie. 

“Great, now how long do I have to wait for  _ this _ stupid thing to disappear?” grumbled Eddie, pointing to the scar on his face with disdain. 

“Aww, babe, it’s sexy,” teased Richie. “Makes you look like a rebel from the wrong side of the tracks.”

“Maybe you should clean your glasses for once in your life and take a better look,” Eddie retorted, smiling in spite of himself. 

“Ok, you got any of your mom’s old aprons?”

“Fuck you, bro.”

“Fuck me yourself!”

Everyone gave each other  _ “Oh, shit!” _ looks as Mike laughed heartily. “Literally an old married couple. Bev, you still remember the notes for that betting pool?”

“Yes,” she replied. “None of us won.”

“Excuse you, I came the closest,” Mike protested. “Technically all of you owe me ten bucks.”

“Not me, I never even participated,” said Ben haughtily. 

“You guys are all assholes, by the way,” said Richie with an eye roll. “You could have clued us in that we were being too obvious.”

“Where would the fun be in that?” countered Beverly. “Shit, half my daily entertainment was watching you two morons roast each other relentlessly and not even  _ suspect _ that each of you had a huge crush on the other.”

Everyone kept arguing amicably and Eddie gazed around the room at his friends with a warmth in his heart, so delighted to have everyone back together at last, though he also felt a pang of hurt in his chest as he thought of the missing piece who should have been there and wasn’t. 

“Stan would be rolling his eyes so hard right now,” said Richie with a sad smile, as though he’d read Eddie’s thoughts. 

“He’d tell us we’re all being stupid,” added Bill wistfully.

“Yeah, but you know he’d be the happiest that we all survived,” said Beverly. “And that you’re going to be ok, Eddie. And he’d be ecstatic that you two are finally together. Hell, that betting pool was his idea. He wanted so much for all of us to be happy.” Everyone was quiet for a moment as they all dedicated their thoughts in memoriam of Stan, until Mike finally broke the sad silence. 

“Speaking of Stan,” he said as he reached into the pocket of his shirt, “I, uh, actually received something in the mail yesterday.” He produced a folded piece of paper and held it up for everyone to observe. “I think we all got the same one, but you guys haven’t been home, obviously, so I thought I’d just bring mine.” He unfolded the paper, cleared his throat, and began to read. Tears welled up in Eddie’s eyes as their dear friend’s final words to all of them reverberated through the room, and he felt Richie squeeze his hand as the letter advised them to  _ Be who you want to be...be proud.  _ Everyone was blinking back tears by the time Mike had finished reading, and Richie seized the moment to raise an imaginary glass in the air. 

“To Stan,” he said, his voice cracking as he spoke the words. 

“To Stan,” everyone repeated, mimicking the gesture as Eddie caught Richie’s eye and silently mouthed a tearful  _ I love you. _

****

Richie shivered as he trudged across the brightly lit hospital parking lot, grasping a plastic shopping bag in one hand and trying desperately to warm up the other in the pocket of his painfully inadequate hoodie. Well, technically  _ Eddie _ ’s hoodie. He hadn’t exactly left for Derry planning to stay for months, and years of living on the west coast had erased his recollection of just how cold and brutal Maine could be in December. 

However, he was nothing if not lazy when it came to doing things for himself, and so, rather than buy a jacket, he’d settled for stealing some of Eddie’s hoodies out of his luggage on one of his treks back to the inn. He really hated having to leave Eddie for any length of time, especially in the weeks that had passed since he woke up, but unfortunately, it was sometimes necessary if he wanted to do things like shower and change his clothes. He at least always tried to do it when Eddie was busy with a physical therapy session, since he’d been (politely) told by the PT technician more than once that he was more of a distraction than a help while those were going on. 

_ Well excuse the fuck out of me for trying to make my sunshine laugh when he’s in pain, MISS HELEN,  _ he thought sarcastically as he entered the hospital’s main doors and stepped onto the nearest elevator to Eddie’s floor, swinging the shopping bag in his hand happily. He’d picked up a couple of things in town to bring a little holiday cheer to Eddie’s room. The doctors were hopeful that he would be able to be discharged by the first week of January and transition into outpatient care, but, for the time being, he was still stuck there. And, with most of the other Losers having had to return to their lives and jobs, Christmas was going to be pretty lame as it was. Not that Richie particularly cared one way or the other about Christmas, of course, but he knew Eddie certainly did. 

The elevator arrived on the sixth floor and Richie stepped off, making his way down the long hallway decorated with paper cutouts of Christmas trees and snowflakes. He waved to the nurse manning the reception desk and took a sharp turn toward Eddie’s room, stopping just outside the slightly open door when he heard Eddie’s voice coming from inside. He cautiously peeked in and saw the other man sitting on the side of the bed with a robe on over his pajamas, his recovered phone in one hand and the other absentmindedly playing with the handle of the metal walker he’d been given in order to move around on his own. 

“Look, I don’t want to fight with you, I just want to make sure you’re going to sign the papers,” he was saying tiredly into the phone. 

_ Oh, shit. I shouldn’t listen in. That would be rude.  _

_ But no one ever said I was polite, sooo… _

Richie guiltily pressed himself against the wall outside of the room and listened to Eddie heave a huge sigh. 

“I know…. I know ….. Christ,  _ I know _ , but the point is, even you have to admit that we never should have b… ok, you know what, I don’t want to rehash this again. Let’s try to make this as easy as possi….fine…. Fine.  _ Fine.  _ Just sign them and fax them to my lawyer. Take ca-“

Eddie’s side of the conversation stopped at last and Richie wondered how long he should wait before he entered the room. He mentally counted to thirty and then decided that was probably long enough. 

“Knock knoooock!” he exclaimed in the cheeriest voice he could manage as he burst through the door. Eddie’s tired face immediately broke into a smile, which was all the reward Richie needed. 

“Hey, you,” Eddie greeted him warmly, reaching for his walker and using it to pull himself into a standing position so he could make his way over to Richie and kiss him softly on the lips. “You were gone forever. I counted.”

“I’m sorry, Eds,” Richie apologized. “But, I come bearing gifts,” he added, brandishing the shopping bag like a trophy. 

“Oooh,” breathed Eddie, his brown eyes sparkling as he looked from Richie to the bag and back again. Even though he was still quite weak and had a long road of recovery left ahead of him despite the many weeks he’d already gone through, he really was getting better every day, and his appearance was starting to reflect it. His skin was starting to regain its color, and his eyes were less sunken and much more vibrant. He’d never ceased to be beautiful in Richie’s eyes, of course, but seeing him look so healthy after such a long and arduous journey was another kind of beauty entirely, and anything that Richie could do to bring out that extra spark of joy in Eddie’s eyes and rosy glow in his cheeks was well worth the effort. 

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Eddie prodded him, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he held onto the walker tightly. “Wait, is that my hoodie?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in sudden recognition at Richie’s attire. 

”Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re gonna stretch it out!”

“I’ll buy you a new one, now do you wanna know what’s in the bag or not?” asked Richie. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

Richie grinned. “Thought so. So, I know you love Christmas and it’s gonna suck this year because you’re still stuck in this shitty room, soooo…” he said dramatically as he reached into the bag. He removed a small, boxed plastic tree and a package of colored lights, setting them down on the bed for Eddie to examine. 

“Oh my god, Riiiich, you’re so sweet,” Eddie said delightedly as he looked the items over. 

“ _ And _ ,” added Richie, reaching back into the bag and retrieving one more thing, a tiny stuffed rhinoceros wearing a Hawaiian shirt, sandals, and a pair of neon yellow sunglasses. “I actually wanted to get you a teddy bear, but for some reason this little guy seemed to be more your type.”

Eddie looked down at the rhinoceros and then back up at Richie with a look so full of love that Richie could literally feel his insides start to melt. “He’s adorable,” Eddie said, taking the stuffed animal and sitting down onto the bed so he could hug it with both arms. “He kind of reminds me of you.”

“Thanks a bunch, babe,” said Richie, pretending to be offended. 

“You know what I mean, dumbass,” replied Eddie with a teasing smile. “The only difference is that Rhino Richie isn’t wearing pants.”

“Yeah, well, just say the word and that could easily be the case for me too,” said Richie with a raised eyebrow. “You know, once you’re out of this hospital.” He thoroughly enjoyed the way Eddie’s cheeks flushed a brilliant scarlet at the innuendo. 

“Ahem. For now, how about another kiss?” said Eddie pointedly. Never one to deny Eddie what he wanted, Richie pulled him up by his hands and wrapped him in his arms, pressing their lips together softly until Eddie pushed back firmly and deepened it into a zealous kiss that left Richie gasping when it was over.

“Wow,” breathed Richie when their lips finally parted. “If I had known stuffed animals make you hot, I would have tried giving you some decades ago.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and gave him a playful swat on the arm. “You’re hilarious, Ricardo.”

“I know, that’s what pays the bills.” Richie guided Eddie back onto his walker and set about opening the cardboard box containing the tiny Christmas tree, which he set up on the small, plastic dining table across from the bed before he opened the lights. Eddie watched him, his expression clearly lost in thought. 

“Quarter for your thoughts, Eds.”

“Isn’t the expression  _ penny _ for your thoughts?” Eddie pointed out. 

“Yeah, but inflation is a thing,” said Richie as he tried to untangle the lights. He saw Eddie smile out of the corner of his eye and mentally scored himself one point. 

“Ok, well, I was just thinking that this is,  _ hopefully _ , only our first holiday of… of many that we’re going to have together,” said Eddie, sounding timid as he reached the end of his sentence. Richie stopped messing with the lights and looked over at him curiously. 

“Yeah, no shit,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Hate to break it to you, Eddio, but you’re kind of stuck with me. Like… if you’re into that.”

The corners of Eddie’s mouth curled up as he leaned heavily against his walker. “So, I spoke to Myra earlier.”

Richie busied himself with the tangled strings and tried to pretend that this was brand new information. “Oh? How’d, um...how’d that go?”

“Well, I won’t get into specifics, but the short version is that she’s understandably pissed, I’ve been cordially invited to  _ not _ ever come back to the apartment while she’s around, and she’s signing the papers tonight,” Eddie blurted out in a rush. “So I guess the divorce is officially moving forward.”

Richie wasn’t quite sure how to answer that.  _ Tact, remember your tact, don’t stand up and fist pump the air in victory. Beep beep. _

“That’s uh...that’s…” he stammered, trying to come up with a dignified end to that sentence. 

“You can say it, Rich, that’s great news,” Eddie prompted him. 

“I was trying to be tactful,” said Richie sheepishly as he strung the mercifully untangled lights around the tree. 

Eddie laughed. “Since when?”

“Hey, I’m turning over a new leaf, Eds,” Richie protested. 

“No, really, it  _ is _ great news, though,” said Eddie thoughtfully. “She and I both wasted ten years, and I feel freer right now than I’ve ever felt. I can actually be  _ me _ ,” he added just as Richie plugged the lights in, their cheerful glow illuminating Eddie’s smiling face into a beautiful work of art. 

“And since you no longer have an apartment, I have the perfect place for you to stay while you’re busy being you,” Richie said as he stood up and threw one arm around Eddie’s shoulders, the two of them gazing over at the lit tree in admiration. “It’s in LA, it’s small, it’s messy as fuck, and it’s honestly kind of ugly, but it could really use that Kaspbrak touch. It comes with a roommate who is  _ also _ messy as fuck and really annoying, but he’s really cool and also is hopelessly in love with you, so it could really work out. You know, assuming my agent doesn’t murder me when I get back.”

“Is this your romantic way of asking me to move in with you?” asked Eddie playfully. 

“Is it working?”

“Like a fuckin’ charm, unfortunately,” replied Eddie with a happy sigh as he wrapped his arms around Richie’s middle and squeezed tight. “I  _ hate _ that it’s working, but it is.”

Richie smiled widely, his heart practically jumping for joy as he held Eddie close and kissed the top of his hair. “You’ll love it, really. I was exaggerating, it’s not  _ that _ ugly, and we can fix it up any way you want, and it’s really close to the beach, and-“

“Hey, look!” Eddie interrupted him, tapping him on the shoulder and excitedly pointing toward the window, where stark, fat snowflakes could be seen falling briefly in the small, visible strip of the night sky before landing and melting onto the roof that took up the rest of the view. “It’s snowing!”

“Yeah, they said it was supposed to leave a few inches. Which is the same thing your mom-“

“How badly do you want me to move in with you, again?” asked Eddie sweetly, blinking up at him with his dark doe eyes. 

“...I’ll shut up,” Richie promised. 

“Beep beep,” said Eddie, kissing him on the cheek and turning back to the window. “Ugh, I wish I could actually see it. All I can see is the ugly ass roof.”

Richie frowned thoughtfully, suddenly remembering the covered outdoor balcony that extended out from the cafeteria downstairs. “Weeeell,” he said slowly, an idea slowly taking shape in his brain. 

“Weeeell?” Eddie prodded him curiously. “You sound like you’re up to someth- what are you doing?” he asked when Richie let go of him and started gathering up some of the hospital issued blankets that Eddie had barely used since they’d been replaced by all manner of fuzzy fleece ones on one of Richie’s trips into town. 

“Wrapping you up so you don’t freeze out there,” replied Richie, covering Eddie from head to toe in blankets before he could protest, until he was more oversized burrito than man. 

“Richie, what the fuck?” Eddie muttered through his blanket prison. “How am I supposed to move in all of this shit?”

Richie cracked his knuckles. “Well, first of all, let’s hope this will be easier than the last time I tried this,” he replied, gingerly scooping Eddie up until he was carrying him bridal style. He did struggle a little bit, but unlike in the sewers, Eddie wasn’t completely dead weight this time, so he could just about manage it. 

“As sexy as this is, can I please ask what the fuck you’re doing?” asked Eddie, yanking his arms free from the blankets so he could wrap them around Richie’s neck. 

“Hey, my baby wants to see the snow, I’m gonna make sure he sees the motherfucking snow,” said Richie determinedly as he started walking the both of them toward the door. 

“You’re such a moron- AAAH, don’t drop me, you ass!” Eddie screeched when Richie misjudged a step and briefly lost his balance. 

“Would you relax? I’m not going to drop you,” Richie insisted, regaining his footing and carefully walking them out of the room. “Just hold on tight, Eds, I’ve got ya.” He settled into a steady stride and carried Eddie down the hallway and past the nurses station, where they were given inquiring looks by the two nurses on duty. 

“We’re going down to the cafeteria,” Richie explained gleefully. 

“This is a kidnapping, call the FBI,” Eddie retorted from beneath his blankets. 

“Have him back before rounds,” said one of the nurses with an amused smile as the other gave them a wave. 

“I will!” Richie promised as he carried Eddie into the elevator. “Eddie, my love, can you be a dear and push 2? My hands are kinda occupied.”

Eddie shook his head but cautiously reached one hand toward the buttons and pressed, quickly grabbing back onto Richie’s neck and holding on for dear life. “You’re such a fuckin weirdo, Tozier.”

“And yet you love me anyway,” Richie pointed out, looking down into Eddie’s eyes, which betrayed how truly entertained he was despite how grumpy he was attempting to appear. 

“Yeah, yeah, but you’re still weird.”

“I love you too,” replied Richie adoringly as the elevator stopped and opened out into another hallway. 

“So why exactly are we going to the cafeteria?” asked Eddie curiously. “I can’t exactly eat processed chicken nuggets for at least another month.”

“We aren’t here for the food, we’re here for  _ that _ ,” said Richie proudly, taking Eddie into the nearly empty cafeteria and turning him so he could see the large, glass doorway leading out onto the outdoor dining patio. “See, there’s a bench out there we can sit on to watch the snow. It should be a nearly perfect view, ‘cause this side of the building isn’t as obstructed.”

“Oooh,” said Eddie, nodding as he finally understood. “That’s…. oddly sweet, Rich.” He planted a big kiss on his cheek that made Richie blush as he carried him out of the double doors and sat the both of them down onto the aforementioned bench, which was very clean and dry due to the awning covering most of the patio. It took a few moments of arranging and adjusting, but finally Richie was sitting sideways with his legs stretched out across the bench, and the blanket-laden Eddie was settled snugly into his lap, facing away from him but with his head resting on Richie’s chest. 

“Warm enough, my love?” Richie asked, wrapping his arms securely around him and holding him as close as possible. 

“Well yeah, you swaddled me in enough blankets to open a hotel,” Eddie pointed out. “But yes, I’m fine. The fresh air feels really good, actually. Are  _ you _ warm enough?” he added, concern in his voice. “That hoodie is meant for the fall, you know.”

“M’good,” Richie murmured, softly kissing the tip of Eddie’s ear. Honestly, it could have been below freezing temperatures and he probably wouldn’t have noticed anything except the pleasant weight of Eddie on top of him and the intoxicating scent of his skin, which were all the warmth he needed or wanted. He still sometimes had trouble believing that this was all real and not a dream or part of a simulation, so he positively lived for moments like this, when he could feel Eddie against him and just  _ be _ . 

They lay there like that for a while in contented silence, just watching the snow fall steadily against the black night sky and enjoying every moment of being together. Richie’s mind found itself wandering back to the simpler days of long ago, when snow had usually meant a day off of school and seemingly endless hours of snowball fights with Eddie and the rest of his friends until they all returned home with rosy cheeks and cold noses. He smiled fondly at one particular memory, not realizing that Eddie had turned his head to watch him until he broke through the silence. 

“Quarter for  _ your _ thoughts, Rich.”

Richie looked down at him, into those eyes, those  _ damn _ big brown eyes that had held his heart for so many years even without him being aware of it, and his soul felt brighter than a thousand winter stars. 

“Oh, I was just remembering the exact moment I fell in love with you. That’s all,” he replied, biting his lip to keep from grinning  _ too _ widely at Eddie’s surprised, flushed expression. 

“You’d better start talking, Tozier,” Eddie demanded. “You can’t just lay a statement like that on me and then stop.”

Richie allowed his grin to grow and held onto him just a bit tighter. “Ok, well, I don’t even know if you remember this, but the winter before… well, before the fuckin clown, when we had that huge blizzard that closed school for like, three days…”

“How could I forget?” said Eddie. “My mom  _ barely  _ let me leave the fucking house. She was afraid I would die of frostbite or some shit.”

“Well, she let you out at least once, ‘cause I remember we were making snow angels in my front yard, and you got up to look at yours, but I didn’t want to get up because I always hated the stupid handprint that kept it from being perfect,” said Richie, losing himself nostalgically in the past as he relayed the story. “And you rolled your eyes at me and said I was being a dumbass, but you reached out your hands, and-“

“And I pulled you up so you wouldn’t have to make a handprint,” Eddie finished, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “I remember.”

“Yeah,” said Richie. “So then you put your arm around me and said “ _ There, it’s perfect, are you happy now? _ ” And I probably couldn’t have explained it in words right then, but I felt... _ something _ that I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t want it to go away, if that makes sense. Like...I wanted us to stay there in the yard with your arm around me forever, you know?”

“I know,” Eddie quietly agreed. 

“Anyway, looking back on it now, that was the first time I think I started to realize you weren’t just a friend to me,” Richie continued. “It took awhile for my brain to catch up with my heart, but that was definitely the moment.” They were both quiet for a while, and Richie felt Eddie break one hand free of the pile of blankets to grasp his, intertwining their fingers before he pressed a kiss onto their shared skin. 

“Richie?” he said, his voice as beautiful as a church bell on a winter night. 

“Hmm?”

“From the bottom of my heart? I fucked your mother,” he said, the smile clear in his voice. Richie let out a hearty laugh, his heart glowing as he rested his chin on top of Eddie’s head. 

“And I’ll always fuck yours, Eds,” he replied happily. “Always and forever.”

Eventually, it became much too cold to continue to stay outside, so Richie carefully scooped Eddie back up and carried him back to his room, a lot more effortlessly this time now that he’d had some practice. 

“So, was that, like, our first official date?” asked Eddie teasingly as they traveled the hallway toward room 608. 

Richie snorted indignantly. “Hell no, I have  _ that _ all planned out for when you’re finally out of this place. Dinner, candles, cheesy fuckin violin music, the works, babe.” 

“Did you get all of those ideas from teen romcoms?” asked Eddie. 

“I mean, yeah, but also, we never got to be dumbass dating teenagers together, so like...indulge me,” Richie protested as he pushed the door to the room open and Eddie laughed. Neither of them noticed the room wasn’t empty until the sound of a clearing throat came from the corner by the table containing the Christmas tree. 

“Jesus!” Richie shouted out in surprise as Eddie let out a yelp and increased his hold around Richie’s neck into a death grip. “Monroe, man, are you trying to give us both heart attacks?” Richie demanded as he recognized their unexpected visitor. 

“I do apologize, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the old man said sincerely. “Hello, Eddie,” he added, turning his attention to the other man for a moment. “It’s nice to see you up and about.”

“Uh...thanks?” said Eddie, sounding thoroughly confused. “Richie, who the fuck is this?” he added in a whisper. 

“It’s cool, Eds, this is Mr. Monroe,” explained Richie. “He’s the director of that simulation program thing.”

“Right,” agreed the old man. “And I was wondering if the two of you would be interested in discussing that seventh session you haven’t taken yet.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the second to last chapter, guys. The next chapter after this will just be an epilogue, so probably not too long, and then I’ll be starting a new multi-chapter that I’m super excited for you to read.
> 
> This chapter does get a liiiiittle spicy in several places, but it’s not smut or even that explicit. I just wanted to mention it just in case. I guess that’s it, enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Richie narrowed his eyes at Monroe, turning his body without meaning to so that it acted as a symbolic shield between the old man and Eddie. “I, uh… assumed the seventh session wouldn’t be necessary,” he said, genuinely confused as to why Monroe was even bothering with this now. “I mean, he’s awake, so I thought-“

Monroe nodded, his face serious as he looked from Richie to Eddie and back again. “Yes. He’s awake, and as such, the data we can glean from your next session inside the program… and Eddie’s, specifically... could provide our lab with quite a useful basis for comparison.”

Richie gulped, holding onto Eddie like a security blanket as he tried to quiet the inexplicable fears that had so quickly turned their pleasant evening sour. He knew, logically, there was no reason why they shouldn’t take the seventh session. One hour of their lives and then they could put it behind them with the rest of the last several months once Eddie had escaped the hospital. But the deepest part of him, the part that was still very much terrified every waking moment that he might somehow  _ still _ lose Eddie after everything… that part wished they could just decline and move on. 

_ What if this ends up being the ONE time something fucks up and goes wrong and something happens to Eddie because of it, and it’s my fault because I’m the one who agreed to the sessions in the first place? _

_ God, Richie, stop it. You make everything such a drama in your head, just shut up.  _

“It’s just… ugh, I’m sorry, Eds, I really don’t mean to sound like your mom,” said Richie to Eddie, looking down at him apologetically before he turned his attention back to Monroe. “But are you sure it’s safe for him to do that? It’s only been a few weeks since he came out of the coma, so…”

“Ah, well, I can assure you the likelihood of anything going wrong is very, very slim,” said Monroe. 

“Right,  _ slim _ , but not  _ nonexistent, _ ” replied Richie pointedly. 

“I hate to point this out in this way, Mr. Tozier, but you did sign a contract for all seven sessions,” Monroe bluntly reminded Richie, who closed his eyes and gave a defeated sigh. 

“I guess,” he said, shifting his weight and subconsciously pressing Eddie’s body closer to him. “I mean, I know I did, but-“

“It would be in your best interests to fulfill the rest of the contract,” the old man continued, giving them a businessman smile despite the direction the conversation was talking. “You both must be eager to get back to your lives and careers, I wouldn’t want anything to complicate that for you.”

Awkward silence reigned for a moment as the old man’s words hung in the air. The three of them just looked at one another. Richie felt Eddie suddenly stiffen in his arms, the other man resolutely straightening his back and fixing his dark, determined eyes on Monroe as he said his first words since entering the room. 

“Sir, I would just like to point out that  _ I _ didn’t actually sign anything,” Eddie spoke up, his voice firm and confident the way it always got when he was about to lay down an impassioned monologue about something he knew all about. “Rich, my walker, please.” Richie managed to keep his smile entirely internal as he carried Eddie over to his walker and carefully set him down.  _ Oh man, this is gonna be good.  _

“Thank you,” said Eddie, gracefully shaking himself loose from the mountain of blankets and grasping the handles tightly. Richie watched as he turned to properly face Mr. Monroe, his demeanor immediately completing its shift. Soft, affectionate Eds was nowhere to be seen, having been entirely replaced, for the moment, by Edward Kaspbrak, qualified risk analyst. “So, Mr…. Monroe, was it?”

“Yes,” replied the old man, crossing over to Eddie and sticking out his hand in greeting. “Nathanial Monroe. It’s so nice to finally  _ really _ meet you, Eddie.”

“Edward,” Eddie corrected him, shaking the man’s hand for the briefest of moments before dropping it back down. “So, about this contract my partner signed, I have a few questions regarding the actual legality of it, considering that it would seem to involve both of us, but one of us, obviously, wasn’t made fully aware of the specifics. I can’t help but wonder how well that’s going to hold up in any court if we refused to participate further, if you even choose to take this all the way to court, which I doubt you would. I’m going to make an educated guess that your lab probably doesn’t have all the relevant permits and legal paperwork to be conducting scientific experiments on humans. Which means that, in the  _ slim _ event that anything went wrong and something happened to one of us, especially me, because, remember, I didn’t actually sign a contract, you would be liable and the ball would actually be in our court as far as seeking damages is concerned….”

Eddie continued to speak, but Richie was only barely hearing him because the word  _ partner _ was busy floating around aimlessly in his head like the logo on a DVD player screensaver while his heart pumped overtime. 

_ Partner.  _

_ PARTNER.  _

_ Holy fuckin shitballs, he called me his PARTNER. Permission to freak the fuck out.  _

_ Also, Jesus Christ, risk analysis is a hell of a lot sexier than it sounds at first. Destroy him, Eds.  _

“....so in the future, you should really consider making sure all of the loose ends are tied up when you draw up a contract like that,” Eddie finished. “The way I see it, my partner and I are under no legal obligation to participate in the last session.”

“What he said,” Richie added, crossing his arms proudly and fixing Monroe with a triumphant grin.  _ He said it again. Partner. I’m gonna fuckin die.  _

“That being said,” Eddie added, “I’m actually not opposed to taking the session.”  _ Wait, what? _ “Of my own free will.” He cast a sidelong glance over at Richie. “Provided that Richie agrees to take it with me.”

Richie met Eddie’s eyes, frowning in confusion. “I…. I don’t…. you really want to?”

Eddie nodded. “I have my own reasons for it, but I’ll only do it if you want to come with me. Of course,” he added, turning away from Richie to give Monroe a withering look, “I’m sure that if you really want him to agree and get your data, you’ll come up with a better way of making that happen than using petty threats against us.”

Richie looked over at Monroe, who had long since lost his salesman facade and was clearly displeased with how this visit was going for him, although he also looked faintly impressed. 

“Ahem. I apologize for coming on so strongly,” said Monroe, quickly pulling himself together and addressing his apology to a spot on the wall slightly to the left of Eddie’s head. “Should you decide to participate, we would, of course, greatly appreciate it.”

Eddie nodded. “Richie?” he asked, some of the softness creeping back into his voice as he patiently waited for Richie’s answer. 

“I, uh… if Eddie really wants to do it, then I’ll do it, too,” Richie finally replied, still reeling from the wild ride of the last few minutes, but also prouder of Eddie than he’d ever been of anything or anyone in his entire life. He genuinely wondered why the fuck Eddie even wanted to do the session, but if that was what he wanted, Richie was willing to indulge him. Hell, at this point, he would probably happily walk through hot coals barefoot if Eddie asked. 

_ Partner.  _

“Wonderful, then,” said Monroe, clearly eager to end the night. “I’ll schedule the session for a day or so before Eddi... _ Edward _ … is discharged. Have a good evening, gentlemen.”

“Bye!” said Richie sarcastically, giving the old man a fake cheerful wave as he passed by him. Monroe ignored it and made a hasty exit, leaving them alone in the room once more to stare at each other in mutual disbelief at what had just transpired. 

“Ok, Eds, spill it,” said Richie, leaning against the wall with his arms still crossed. “Why are we taking the session?”

Eddie shuffled himself over to his bed and slowly sat down, carefully pushing the walker aside as he stretched his legs out in front of him. “Honestly? I just want an hour where I can actually do something like take a walk or sit up fast without it feeling like I just ran a marathon. This might be one of the last times I can feel fully functional for awhile, so why not?”

Richie crossed over to the bed and sank down beside him. “I guess I can understand that.”

“But I also don’t want to do it alone, so of course you have to come with me,” Eddie added, grasping Richie’s hand in his own and shaking it affectionately. 

“Babe, I will literally follow you anywhere at any time, just say the fuckin word,” said Richie, leaning down to rest his forehead against Eddie’s. “And by the way,” he added, settling back to look Eddie in the eyes, “I had no idea until now that I have a highly specific kink for tiny, angry risk analysts letting loose with all kinds of sexy legal talk on a cranky old bitch, but here we are.”

Eddie smiled. “Hey, he was getting an attitude with you. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that. And if you thought  _ that _ was sexy, you should see me in a work meeting about business liability,” he said teasingly.

“Mmm,” said Richie with a raised eyebrow. “Whichever insurance company out in LA is lucky enough to snag you is gonna have to install extra fire extinguishers.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh, the sound of which almost caused Richie’s heart to explode with joy. “Thank you for laughing at my lame joke, I love you for it,” he said, adjusting his glasses with his free hand. 

“Someone has to.”

“Ouch, Eds!”

“I love you, really,” said Eddie, throwing both arms around Richie’s shoulders and giving him a hug. “Even if your jokes do need a little work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Richie, hugging him back happily. He suddenly remembered that word again, the word that had caused him to miss half of Eddie’s spectacular takedown of Monroe because he couldn’t stop focusing on it. 

“You called me your partner,” he murmured into Eddie’s neck. Eddie broke slightly from the hug to face him, his dark eyes sparkling as a tiny smile spread across his lips. 

“I did,” he agreed. “Isn’t that what we are?”

Richie hadn’t expected to be so overcome with emotion over those seven words, but he could barely form the words that came out of his mouth in reply due to the growing lump in his throat as he said them. 

“It’s what we’ve always been.”

*****

“Ugh, I am not going to miss this shitty hospital cable,” Eddie muttered as he clicked through channel after channel with the remote attached to his bed. “Would it kill them to at least offer HBO?”

“It’s whatever, babe,” replied Richie absentmindedly as he slouched in his chair and looked down at his phone. “As of this time tomorrow, this hospital  _ and _ its cable package will be a distant memory and not our problem anymore.” He had only been half listening to Eddie since, for one thing, he’d heard enough of Eddie’s complaining about everything hospital-related to last several lifetimes and had become quite adept at just letting him ramble while his own mind wandered, and, for another thing, he was preoccupied with making sure everything was in order for the next day. In less than twenty-four hours, Eddie was being discharged and sent home. That meant no more hospital room, no more doctors constantly up in their faces, and no more endless days and nights waiting for their life together to really begin. One more day, and they’d both be free at long last. 

And Richie was more than ready. He’d spent the last several days planning every last detail of their escape. He’d booked the nicest hotel he could find for them to stay in for a couple of nights while they waited for their flight to LA, which Richie had made sure was first class, because he’d be damned if Eddie was going to travel home in a cramped, uncomfortable economy seat. He’d set up appointments with several different, well-reviewed doctors for when they got home, figuring that Eddie could meet them all and then decide for himself which ones, if any, he was comfortable seeing for his continued care. He’d also set up a grocery delivery window, made an appointment for a cleaning service to show up the day before he and Eddie arrived, and, last but not least, finally returned his agent’s annoying phone calls. Everything was all set. 

He couldn’t fucking wait. 

“You look busy, Ricardo.” Eddie’s voice broke through his concentration and he looked up from his phone, finding curious brown eyes twinkling down at him from where Eddie lay sprawled on his bed. 

“I am,” said Richie. “Planning our exit from this hellhole. How’s the honeymoon suite at the Hilton sound for a couple of nights?”

Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise. “It sounds like there isn’t even a ring on my finger yet, Speed Racer.”

Richie smiled. “Oh, I’m sure if I’m lucky enough, there will be someday. For now, I just want you to have the best. You’ve been cramped up in this gross tomb of a room for so long, I just want to spoil you for a little while.”

“Rich, I don’t  _ need  _ to be spoiled,” Eddie protested. “I’m happy enough just to be leaving here, I don’t care what the hotel looks like.”

Richie pouted. “But I’ve missed out on spoiling you for like thirty years, man. I have lost time to make up for.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but gave an amused smile. “Is there a hot tub in that suite?”

“You bet your adorable ass there is,” replied Richie delightedly. “And the hotel has a pool.”

“It’s January.”

“A heated pool,” Richie pointed out. “Indoors.”

“Public pools are fucking disgusting, dude, but I am all over that in-suite hot tub,” said Eddie. 

A firm knock on the door put an abrupt end to the conversation as Mr. Monroe suddenly entered the room without waiting for an answer, trailed by two assistants and the program equipment. Unlike any of the previous handful of times he had accompanied his team into Eddie’s room, he didn’t look the least bit at ease to be there. In fact, he looked just a tiny bit scared of Eddie, which amused Richie to no end. 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said curtly. “I trust we’re still good to go with the session today? I understand you’re being released tomorrow, Edward.”

Eddie nodded, pressing the off button on the TV remote and meeting Mr. Monroe’s eyes. “It would seem so, yes,” he offered as a short reply to both statements. 

Monroe nodded. “Wonderful. Well, we won’t keep you longer than we have to, so what’s say we set up and get the session rolling, shall we?”

Richie held in a smile as the assistants began to set up the equipment. The old man was clearly eager to get this whole thing over with and never have to deal with them again, a feeling that Richie could honestly relate to. He barely had the patience to wait the remaining twenty-odd hours until he could take Eddie out of there and never look back. 

“Hey, Rich,” said Eddie in a whisper as the electronic nodes were being fitted onto both of their heads.

“Hmm?” replied Richie, reaching for his hand and lazily intertwining their fingers together. 

“Old Man Monroe has a mustard stain on his suit,” murmured Eddie out of the side of his mouth. Richie stole a glance over toward the corner of the room where the old man was leaning over the assistant stationed at the laptop and doing something with the keyboard. Sure enough, there  _ was _ a dim yellow stain smack dab in the middle of the lapel. Richie snorted, burying his head into the side of Eddie’s pillow to stifle the laughter as he felt Eddie’s chest heaving with suppressed giggles. 

“Bet he inhales his food like an anteater,” Richie whispered into the pillow with a smirk. He felt Eddie’s laughter intensify for a brief moment before all movement from the other man suddenly ceased altogether, the hand in his going completely slack. Richie shot back up into a sitting position, his heart pounding as he took in the sight of Eddie laying back against his pillow, his body still, his eyes open and opaquely white. It reminded him so strongly of what Beverly had looked like in the Deadlights that he had to take a moment to collect himself before his breathing returned to normal and he could rationalize to himself that Eddie wasn’t in danger, he had merely been sent into the simulation ahead of him. Richie glanced back over at Monroe, who was looking right back at him with an expression that made him suspect that had been done on purpose. 

_ Yeah, fuck you too, asswipe _ , he thought bitterly as he settled back into the chair with his eyes closed, still holding Eddie’s limp hand as someone pressed a few keys and the world of the hospital began to melt away into that familiar, oddly comforting white noise. The next time he opened them, he found himself standing in a partially lit hallway facing a closed door, onto which was taped a crudely made sign that said  _ KEEP OUT. THIS MEANS YOU.  _ He smiled fondly, vividly remembering the day he had made that sign after the millionth time his mom had taken it upon herself to straighten up his messy things while he was at school. She never could understand what he meant when he said that he had a system and when his room got cleaned he couldn’t ever find anything. 

He looked around, briefly wondering why he had landed in his own childhood house and where the hell Eddie was, but he didn’t have to wonder for too long about that second thing. Music beginning to float out from behind the closed bedroom door told him exactly where Eddie must be. He smiled and turned the knob, opening the door to see Eddie sitting on his bed, a comic book in his hand as the opening verse of The Cure’s “Friday I’m In Love” softly floated from the boombox on Richie’s old bookshelf. “I see you found  _ my _ music collection.”

“Ugh, finally,” said Eddie, closing the book when he looked up and saw Richie standing in the doorway. “I’ve been waiting forever, I thought you’d never get here.”

“It’s been literally five minutes, how about you calm your titties?” replied Richie, taking a moment to gaze around his old room nostalgically. “Besides, it’s that old bastard Monroe’s fault.” 

“Ok, ok,” said Eddie. “Anyway, yeah, I don’t want to hear shit about my music taste ever again from someone who legitimately enjoys “Rock Lobster.”

“First of all, that song is a fucking classic and I won’t stand here and allow it to be disrespected,” said Richie bluntly. “And secondly, how did we end up in my room, of all places?”

“That’s, uh… that’s probably on me,” replied Eddie timidly. “I was sort of trying to think about it while they set us up. I wasn’t thinking about your room specifically though, just your house, but I guess since this room is what I remember the most I just ended up in here, and I think by now you just end up wherever I am.”

“Ok, so...why my house?” asked Richie curiously. 

“Are you kidding?” replied Eddie in surprise. “Your house was almost like my second home growing up. Hell, sometimes I wished it was my  _ only _ home. My own house felt like fucking prison.”

Richie nodded in understanding as he lazily ran his fingers over the action figure collection on top of his bureau. “Yeah, I remember. Your mom was a real b-“

“ _ Richie.” _

“B….ig pain in the ass,” Richie finished sheepishly. “But seriously, the way she treated you was complete bullshit.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed with a sigh. “I think your parents thought that, too. They always made me feel like part of the family. I never felt at ease in my own home, but here? Always.”

“Aaw, Eds,” Richie crooned, crossing the room to sit down on the bed beside him. “Is that why we’re here?”

“Actually, no, not really,” replied Eddie. Richie felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“It’s not?”

“No,” said Eddie, shaking his head. His face took on a serious expression and Richie could tell he was having a hard time working up to whatever it was he wanted to say next. 

“Eds?” he prodded him gently. Something about that one word seemed to strengthen Eddie’s resolve, because his face relaxed and he grabbed Richie’s hand. 

“Come here,” he said, pulling Richie up and leading him toward the large picture window on the other side of the room. “What do you see?”

“Uuuum,” said Richie thoughtfully as he wrapped his arms around Eddie from behind and rested his chin on the top of his head. “I don’t know, the front yard?”

“Well, yeah, no shit,” said Eddie exasperatedly. “I mean, specifically, what do you see?”

Richie peered closer over Eddie’s head at the yard outside the window. “My tire swing?”

Eddie nodded. “So, remember outside the cafeteria when you told me about the first moment you fell in love with me?”

Richie felt his stomach dip. “Y-yeah?”

“You never asked, but don’t you want to know what my moment was?” asked Eddie, the words hanging in the air between them and causing Richie’s heart to pound. He was  _ dying  _ to know; he had been for weeks, but he’d thought it would be pushy to ask, and that maybe Eddie wouldn’t even know, anyway. He drew Eddie closer against his chest and moved his head so he could speak directly into his ear. 

“Kaspbrak, if you don’t start talking in two seconds, I swear to Christ, I will wear my street shoes in your bed later.”

He felt Eddie let out an involuntary shiver. “Ok, I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Mmm. Spill,” said Richie, kissing Eddie’s temple before he returned his chin to his head and waited. 

“It was June 17, 1987,” Eddie began, which took Richie aback just a little bit. He hadn’t expected a literal exact date, but he wasn’t about to interrupt to ask questions. “We were playing in your yard, taking turns on that swing,” he continued, indicating outside of the window with his finger. “You were acting like a complete jackass, twirling around and trying to stand up at the same time, and I warned you that you were going to end up falling and breaking your ass, so when you finally got off the swing you stuck your tongue out at me and said “I told you I wouldn’t fall, you big worrywart.”

“Wow, baby me sounds like a real romantic bitch,” Richie couldn’t help but quip. 

“I’m not finished, asshole.”

“Sorry.”

“ _ Anyway,”  _ Eddie continued pointedly. “Then it was my turn, and I asked you if you would push me. And I remember telling myself that I was probably going to regret that because I was expecting you to send me flying into the sun or some shit, but actually you were being really careful and gentle about it, so I relaxed and just let myself have fun.”

Images began forming in Richie’s mind as he listened to Eddie speak, images of a hot summer day, the yard, the tire swing, being careful not to push Eddie too hard on the swing because he didn’t want him to get scared. He hadn’t recalled that day at all until now, but the more Eddie talked, the more vivid it became in his memory. 

“So,” Eddie kept on, “I asked you to push me higher, just a little higher. And you did, and I was having so much fun, and then-“

“The rope broke,” Richie murmured into Eddie’s hair. 

“Mmm-hmm,” Eddie confirmed. “I fell and hurt my knee, and I started crying. I don’t think it was because of my knee, it was more because I was embarrassed. I always wanted you to think I was cool.”

“Really?” Richie interjected, genuinely amused. “That’s hilarious, because I was such a fucking nerd. You wanted  _ me _ to think  _ you  _ were cool?”

“Well that’s how I felt,” Eddie insisted, still staring dreamily out the window as his memories kept pouring out. “Anyway, you rushed over to me, just screaming “Fuck! Eddie, are you ok??? I’m sorry!” And I was just sitting there trying to hide my tears and act like it wasn’t a big deal. I started taking my supplies out of my fanny pack, and you actually knelt down next to me and took them from me. Like… just straight up took over and fixed my knee up. And as you finished putting the band-aid on me you said-“

“It’s ok, Eds. You’re all better now,” said Richie quietly, the words coming out of his mouth like a movie line he’d heard a thousand times. He remembered it so clearly now, how he’d seen Eddie crying on the ground with his skinned knee, and he’d pretended not to see the tears because he didn’t want to make his friend feel any worse. 

“Right,” said Eddie with a soft sigh. “That was the very first time you ever called me Eds. And I felt...god, I don’t know. I liked the sound of it but I wasn’t sure  _ why _ . You were just looking at me with those eyes of yours, pushing your glasses up your nose, and the whole thing felt so nice, so very nice, but it… it scared me, too. I thought I definitely wasn’t supposed to be feeling like that with a boy, so I just… pushed it down.” Eddie’s hands reached up to grasp at Richie’s, holding on tightly as though he were afraid to let them go until his confession was over. “That’s why any time you called me Eds after that day, I would get all pissy and tell you I hated it, but god, Richie, I was lying. I liked it  _ so _ much, but it fucking terrified me.”

Richie gently turned him around so that he could face him. Eddie’s dark eyes were glistening with unshed tears, but they weren’t sad ones. Rather, they looked like tears of relief from having finally unloaded this final secret he’d been repressing for so long, even if he hadn’t remembered why for over twenty years.

“Anyway,” Eddie said, his voice cracking slightly. “That was just the seed that eventually grew into me loving you so much, but it was for sure the first moment, for me. That was part of the reason why I wanted this last session. I wanted to tell you here, but I wanted it to look and feel the same as it did back then. Is that stupid?”

“Of course not, Eds,” replied Richie with a smile. “Fuck, I’m glad you told me.” He pulled Eddie into a hug, rocking them back and forth slowly as he stroked his hair. “So, ‘87, huh?”

“Yep,” said Eddie. 

“You know what that means? That means you knew before even I did,” Richie pointed out. Eddie broke from the hug and looked him in the eyes, an amused smile playing on the corners of his mouth. 

“I guess I did, huh?” He leaned back in, wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck and reaching up on his toes to press their lips together lightly. “I’m sorry I waited forever to tell you.”

“Oh my god, will you stop apologizing and just kiss me again?” Richie begged. Eddie laughed and went in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate. Richie hungrily leaned into it, kissing him back with fervor as his hands tightened their grip around Eddie’s waist. He let out an involuntary moan when he felt Eddie lightly slip his tongue inside his mouth, a completely unexpected sensation that surprised and excited him so much that he was too distracted to realize that Eddie had let go of his neck and was gently guiding them back toward the bed until the other man had already pushed him down onto it and was eagerly climbing into his lap. 

“Eds, what… oh my god,” Richie groaned as Eddie straddled him, cupping his face with both hands before he crashed their lips back together. He held onto Eddie’s waist tightly to make sure he didn’t fall off, every nerve in his body on fire as he met each kiss desperately. He moaned loudly when Eddie’s lips wandered over to a spot just below his ear, nipping at the sensitive skin before his hot breath ghosted over it. 

“Ed… Eddie… can we… oh Jesus,” Richie murmured when Eddie sat straight up on his lap and reached for the bottom hem of his own shirt, yanking it up and off before Richie had time to even process it was happening. He was temporarily struck speechless, staring in awe at the beautiful body in front of him before his eyes wandered back up to lock with Eddie’s. 

“Better enjoy this view while it lasts, ‘cause after this is over it’ll be gone forever,” Eddie joked, kissing him again as one of his hands slipped underneath Richie’s shirt and started exploring. As heavenly as that felt, and as much as he desperately wanted to continue, Eddie’s words starkly reminded Richie why they really shouldn’t. 

“Eddie.. mmmph… Eds, hey. Stop for a sec,” he said, gently placing a hand on Eddie’s bare chest to guide him back into an upright sitting position on his lap. 

“Don’t you want to?” asked Eddie, his eyes almost black with lust as he looked at Richie and bit his lip. Richie almost gave in right there and then, but somehow he stuck to his resolve. 

“I do. God, you have no fucking idea how much I want this,” Richie assured him, placing his hands back around Eddie’s waist. “It’s just… look around us. Look at where we are.”

Eddie looked around the room and then back at Richie, confused. “What about it?”

Richie sighed. “Look, Eds, we’ve both been waiting for this for a  _ very  _ long time. When we finally get there, I’d really rather it not be, well… here. I just… inside a simulated version of my childhood bedroom where not even we are actually real isn’t exactly how I pictured my- OUR- first time,” he corrected himself quickly, panicking at what he’d almost just admitted. He wasn’t ready for  _ that  _ conversation yet. 

Eddie looked at him thoughtfully, clearly frustrated, but also reluctantly accepting. “I just really wanted to send off my old body,” he said quietly, wrapping his hands around Richie’s neck again. “After this it’s going to be nothing but those ugly scars for the rest of my life, and who wants to look at those during sex?”

“I do,” Richie insisted. “Because they’re a part of you.”

“You don’t seem to want to look at them any other time,” Eddie pointed out in a tone of voice that told Richie he’d clearly been thinking about this a lot. “You always look away when I’m changing my shirt or fixing the bandages.”

Richie suddenly felt sick. “Oh… oh Jesus Christ, Eds, that’s not… I don’t do that because they’re.. ok, no, listen to me,” he said forcefully, tightening his grip around Eddie’s waist and staring him right in the eyes. “Look at me,” he ordered him. Eddie did so, his eyebrows furrowed in that kicked puppy look he always seemed to get during serious moments. “Yes, I look away from your scars…  _ sometimes _ , not all the time… but that’s not because they’re ugly or whatever you think. I look away because… because…” Richie paused, unsure how to finish that sentence without having to dredge up what had happened in the Deadlights. He let out a heavy sigh and continued. “Because whenever I see them, I feel guilty.”

Eddie frowned. “Guilty? Why?”

“Because I could have saved you from all of this and I didn’t,” Richie let out in a rush, feeling as though a final weight had been lifted from his chest as he spoke. “I could have pushed you off of me and the clown might have missed you, or it could have gotten me instead, and either way you wouldn’t have been hurt. I know that’s not logical or whatever, but it’s how I feel, and I’m trying to deal with it, so no, I actually don’t think anything about your scars are ugly, because actually? They’re a symbol of what a brave badass you are, and I think that’s fucking beautiful. And when we finally have sex, I want it to be in the real world with the real me and the real you, and that includes every mark on your body, ok?” 

He took a deep breath to make up for the ones he hadn’t been taking during that rambling speech and looked anxiously at Eddie, waiting for a response. Eddie said nothing for a moment, but he was clearly turning over every single one of Richie’s words in his mind. Finally, after that seemed like an eternity, he leaned back in and softly placed a kiss on Richie’s lips. 

“First of all, you’re such a fucking sap and I’m even more in love,” said Eddie with a smile. “And secondly, my wounds aren’t your fault, you absolute dipshit. They’re not anyone’s fault but Pussywise.”

Richie laughed, feeling so much better than he’d felt moments earlier. 

“That’s better,” said Eddie, kissing him again and patting him on the cheek with one hand. “And you’re right, I don’t want our first time to be in a literal dream. Especially not for you, if you get my drift,” he added with a wink. “You should experience  _ everything. _ ”  _ Shit. He caught that after all.  _

Richie groaned. “Keep talking like that and we might not make it out of this simulation after all.”

Eddie laughed. “Alright, Romeo, how about we go for a nice cool-off walk?” he said as he hopped off of Richie and reached for his shirt. 

“Yes, sir,” agreed Richie. They made their way out of the house and through the streets of the simulated town, passing by old familiar places as though it were a symbolic goodbye to Derry itself. In a way, it probably was. Neither of them really had any reason to ever go back to their hometown now, and Richie himself wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. Not after everything that had happened there; not when the town itself had done the most it could to tear their lives apart. 

He barely even noticed where they were going until they reached the Kissing Bridge, the one site he actually didn’t mind seeing. He smiled down at the faded R+E that he’d earnestly carved so many years ago as a symbolic  _ fuck you  _ to every homophobe that had ever tried to make him feel like he wasn’t good enough. 

“Mmm,” murmured Eddie, slipping his arms around Richie’s waist as Richie put an arm around him and drew him close. “I like that carving, but it’s not my favorite.”

“What?” asked Richie, confused. “Pray tell, which one  _ is _ your favorite?  _ Show me your titties?  _ Maybe that nice little  _ Amber _ in the heart over in the corner there?”

Eddie gave him a withering look. “Whenever you’re done being a total assbag, you might want to take a look below your carving and slightly over to the side. I’ll wait.”

Richie peered closely at the fence, his eyes roaming over the various dumb notes until they settled on a crudely carved R inside an even cruder heart. His face immediately flushed. “What the f-“

“Yeah, that would be my favorite,” said Eddie triumphantly. “Precisely because I knew pointing it out to you would make you look like a ripe tomato.”

“Fuck you, how long was this here?” Richie demanded to know. 

“I carved it after yours, and I guess you just never noticed it,” replied Eddie with a shrug. 

“You’re a little shit but I love you so fuckin much,” sighed Richie, pulling Eddie in for a kiss that was soon interrupted by the familiar beeping noise. 

“Oh, thank god, get us the fuck out of here!” Richie exclaimed. “And pack your bags, Eds, because as of tomorrow we are out of-“ He got no further, because the world around him suddenly dissolved into nothing until he was back in his chair in the hospital, blinking away the slight headache that always seemed to nag at him whenever he came out of one of these things. 

“Ah, welcome back,” Mr. Monroe greeted him from behind his laptop. “How did it go, Mr. Tozier?”

Richie somehow managed to find the wherewithal to not grab one of Eddie’s empty juice containers and hurl it at the old man. “It went fine, thanks,” he said simply. He turned his attention over to Eddie, who, to his dismay, was still sporting the glassy eyed look of someone who was still inside the simulation. 

“Eds?” he said quietly, reaching one hand over to brush a strand of hair out of Eddie’s eyes. “Yo, Eduardo. Andale. Wake up, babe.” He glanced over toward the corner of the room, where Monroe and his assistants were peering quizzically at the laptop screen that Richie couldn’t see. “Uh, guys?” he said anxiously. “He’s still in there, can we maybe work on getting him out?”

“Just… just a second,” one of the assistants said, casting a nervous look over at Eddie that immediately set Richie’s pulse racing. “We’re just having a slight technical difficu-“

“The fuck do you mean a technical difficulty???” Richie exclaimed loudly, causing the poor assistant to wince. “Get him out of there. Now.”

“We’re trying,” the other assistant explained patiently. “The program is just frozen at the moment, so-“

Richie shook his head, his whole body suddenly overtaken with uncontrollable tremors. “No, I don’t care, he has to come out,” he babbled, feeling like someone had just plunged a knife straight into his core. “Get him out, GET HIM OUT!” 

“It’ll just be a minute,” Monroe said calmly. “Please try to control yourself.”

Richie really wanted to tell him where to shove it, but all he had the energy to focus on was Eddie. He got up from his chair and stood over Eddie’s body, gently but firmly taking his face in both hands and trying to look behind the vacant eyes, hoping that, somehow, Eddie would be able to hear him and come back on his own. 

“Eds,” he said desperately, using one of his hands to pat Eddie’s non-wounded cheek. “Eddie. EDDIE. Babe, look at me. Look at me, please. You can’t do this to me, man. Come on. Ed. EDS.”

“Ah, there we go,” he vaguely heard one of the assistants say in the background.  _ Oh, thank god.  _

“Ok, Eds, come on, they fixed it. Get your ass back here before I kill you,” he rambled, carefully watching Eddie’s face for any sign of consciousness. “This is beyond not funny, let’s go-“

Without warning, Eddie’s eyes suddenly returned to normal and he roared back to life with a loud gasp, his upper body bolting upright for a split second before settling back down. 

“Hi R-“ he began, but didn’t finish his greeting because Richie, relief flooding through him as though a dam had burst, flung himself onto him and wrapped him in an embrace so tight he could actually feel Eddie’s pulse against his skin. 

“R-Richie?” Eddie inquired curiously. Richie could feel him cautiously patting him on the back, but he was shaking so hard he couldn’t form any words to explain the situation even if he had the energy. “Richie, Jesus, what’s the matter?” he asked, sounding alarmed. “You’re shaking like a fuckin leaf, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Richie managed to stammer out into Eddie’s shoulder when his body finally began to calm itself down. “Nothing, just...don’t ever fucking do that to me again, I swear.” That wasn’t even remotely close to all the things he wanted to say. Things like…

_ I thought I’d lost you. Again.  _

_ It felt like having my soul ripped out of my body.  _

_ I don’t ever want to feel that again, it’s fucking terrifying.  _

_ I love you. _

_ I will love and protect you with everything I have until I can’t anymore. And even then, I will.  _

_ Eds.  _

He settled for just kissing him softly on the lips instead as Eddie stroked his cheek. His shaking gradually reduced and disappeared, being replaced by a renewed sense of calm as he looked over at the program staff with narrowed eyes. 

“I hope you guys got all your friggin data, because as of now, we. Are.  _ Done. _ If anyone comes at us with those ugly nodes again, they lose a hand, got it?”

****

The remainder of their time in the hospital passed by in a hazy blur. Richie barely left Eddie’s side after Monroe and company had left, blessedly taking their machines and equipment with them, hopefully to never come back. To be sure, he was grateful for having had the opportunity to be with Eddie throughout the endless weeks of his coma in some way, but now that it was all over, he was eager to keep the whole thing as just a distant memory from The Dark Times along with everything else. 

No, from here on out, it was going to be about nothing but the future. Fuck the past. 

He barely remembered sleeping curled up beside Eddie in the cramped hospital bed that last night, nor the discharge process the next morning. His brain didn’t focus on much until they were both settled in his rental car, driving away from the hospital and Maine itself, every mile they put behind them acting as a stepping stone toward their new life together. 

“How’s freedom feel, Eds?” he asked after they had checked into their suite at the hotel and were settling in, Richie shoving their luggage into the massive closet while Eddie practiced hobbling around on the walking stick that had replaced his walker several days earlier. 

“It feels a lot like I need a shower to wash away months worth of hospital bullshit,” said Eddie brightly. “But other than that? Feels good, man.”

Richie laughed. “Well, if you wanna go do that, I can unpack some of our stuff and then maaaaybe we can order in and watch something that’s not Fox News?” he said, pulling Eddie in for a soft hug. 

“That sounds fuckin great, actually,” Eddie agreed. He gave Richie a quick peck on the lips. “I won’t be too long.” He made his way into the bathroom and shut the door, a signal which spurred Richie into quick action. He opened the closet and rummaged around in his own duffel bag until he found the items he was looking for; a small vanilla scented candle and a single, plastic red rose. He’d bought and stashed them in his bag in a hurry at one of the gift shops in the lobby earlier while Eddie had been distracted looking at a magazine display. 

_ Ok, _ he thought nervously as he lit the candle and sat awkwardly on the end of the bed, holding the rose between his fingers.  _ This feels lame as hell, but whatever, I’m not used to doing shit like this, cut me a break.  _ He patiently waited until he heard the shower turn off, and Eddie reappeared in the room several minutes later, wearing a fresh T-shirt and pajama pants and still managing to look like a million dollars. The other man stopped short when he saw the candle, his eyes twinkling in amusement when he noticed the flower in Richie’s hand. 

“Richie, what the fuck?” he asked, smiling as he began crossing over to him. Richie got up and met him halfway, holding the rose out like an offering. 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he began, sliding the rose into Eddie’s free hand.

“About?” Eddie pressed. 

Richie cleared his throat. “About, um… yesterday? In my fake room? And we almost… ya know.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raised in interest. “Oh?”

Richie took a deep breath and continued. “And well, I just… we have this beautiful room and all, and I’m just so happy you’re here and you’re alive and perfect, and… and…”

“Aaaaand?” Eddie prodded him eagerly, putting the rose on a nearby chair and sliding his hand into Richie’s. 

“And I’m not even a little bit good at making this sound romantic and shit, so I’m just gonna cut to the chase here,” Richie spilled out all at once. “I thought we could just, like… I mean… not  _ rush _ into anything. At all. I  _ don’t _ want to rush it, I can’t stress that enough, that’s super important, but like… we could maybe… just get in bed later and, um… see where the night takes us? AGAIN,  _ not _ at all rushing into anything. Just taking it super slow and mayb-“

Hungry lips on his cut him off, and he forgot about speaking anymore as Eddie dropped his walking stick on the floor and practically climbed him, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, which Richie happily took as a cue to carry them over to the bed. He lost his footing and fell onto it on his back, Eddie scrambling on top of him and eagerly tugging at the hem of Richie’s shirt. 

“S-slow, remember,” Richie reminded him, reaching down to take the shirt off himself before tossing it onto the floor. Eddie’s eyes darkened once it was off, and it suddenly occurred to Richie that Eddie had never seen him shirtless before. Not since puberty, anyway. 

“Sorry, I don’t work out much, so I’m not super ripped like you are,” he apologized. 

Eddie shook his head. “Bitch, oh my god, do  _ not _ apologize for this body. Like, ever. Besides, I haven’t worked out in months, I’m basically a noodle.”

“A sexy noodle,” Richie corrected him, leaning up to kiss him as his fingers played with the bottom of Eddie’s shirt briefly before sliding up underneath to gently caress the still healing skin on his stomach and chest that wasn’t still covered by bandages. Eddie’s breathing grew rough, and he sat up on top of Richie to pull his own shirt off, nervously exposing his torso as Richie fully took in the sight of it for the first time. He still felt a modicum of guilt when he saw the scarred skin, but mostly, he felt pride. 

“Badass,” he whispered, lighting up at the smile that crossed Eddie’s face. Eddie surged back down to kiss him again, hungry lips and tongues crashing against each other as everything else disappeared but the two of them. 

“Slow...s-slow,” Richie reminded him, his heart beating wildly in his chest as Eddie pressed him gently down onto the pillows. 

“Slow, yeah, of course,” Eddie murmured in agreement.

The rest of the night was a haze of hot breath on skin, roaming fingers and intertwining bodies that, even if it wasn’t quite the whole main event, was more than enough to leave both of them a strung out mess as they fell into a blissful sleep in each other’s arms, television and room service long forgotten. And when Richie opened his eyes the next morning to find Eddie already awake behind him and pressing soft kisses into his shoulder, he wondered if maybe this was what heaven actually felt like.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys, it’s finished! I just want to thank everyone who read this dumb little fic and gave it support in any way, either through kudos or comments. I really hope you’ll all choose to read and follow my next multi-chapter, which I’m hoping to start publishing within the next week. As a reminder, you can find me on Tumblr as GreenOrnaments and follow me there too! Now, enjoy the epilogue :)

The soft warmth of lips pressing into the skin of his bare shoulder eased Richie out of his deep slumber before he’d even opened his eyes. He smiled beneath his closed eyelids, the last remnants of hazy, pleasant dreams floating away from him as he gradually became more alert. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to waking up like this. For the first year after he and Eddie moved in together, he’d been absolutely convinced that every morning was some kind of sick setup by the clown; that he would wake up any minute to find that he was still down in that godforsaken sewer, unable to escape from a neverending nightmare of torture. Now, three years in, he was so used to Eddie’s morning ritual that he didn’t have that overwhelming anxiety anymore, but sometimes he still couldn’t quite believe this was his life now. 

“Good morning,” Eddie whispered softly, clearly sensing he had awakened as he brushed his lips over the sensitive spot beneath his ear, causing an involuntary, delighted shiver in Richie. 

“Mmm,” Richie murmured in approval. “G’morning.” He turned to face him, his heart full as he took in the sight of Eddie next to him, his hair, much like their sheets, still a tousled mess from the previous night’s activities. His brown eyes still shined with the afterglow as they met Richie’s briefly before he snuggled closer to press kisses up and down his chest. 

“ _ Good _ morning indeed,” repeated Richie happily, threading his fingers through Eddie’s messy hair and gently twisting some of it around his pinky. “Didn’t you get enough last night?”

“No,” replied Eddie, sighing contentedly as he wrapped his arms around Richie’s middle and squeezed him tight like a teddy bear. “It’s literally never enough, I’m still in a deficit from all those wasted years.”

Richie snorted. “Well, we  _ do _ have a couple of hours before I gotta head out of here for my venue,” he said pointedly, tilting Eddie’s face up with his hand so he could capture his lips in a proper kiss. “You’re still coming to the show tonight, right?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Eddie assured him. “I’ll leave work early and head straight there.”

“Good,” said Richie with a smile. “Maybe I’ll drag you out onstage during the bit about my tiny, angry tornado boyfriend so everyone can get a visual aid.”

“Wow, keep it up and maybe I’ll just volunteer to work late, Trashmouth,” Eddie retorted teasingly. 

“Oh, please, like anyone’s gonna believe me,” said Richie, rolling his eyes. “Just like they don’t believe me when I throw in that I destroyed a clown and even killed a guy once after he messed with my man,” he added, gently caressing the faint red line on Eddie’s cheek with his fingertips. Eddie looked up at him from beneath dark eyelashes, his expression lost in thought as he seemed to be mentally working out what he was going to say next. 

“Are you happy?”

Richie frowned slightly, the unexpected question taking him by surprise as he looked at Eddie curiously. “What a question, Eds. Of course I am,” he replied. His phone buzzed on his bedside table, but he ignored it. 

“I mean, are you  _ happy _ ?” Eddie asked again. “With our life. Us. Do I make you happy?”

“Eds, I’m not gonna lie, you’re starting to scare me a little,” said Richie worriedly. “You asked me this same question last night, are you ok?”

“Just indulge me and answer the goddamn question,” said Eddie, gently tracing soft lines on Richie’s stomach with his finger. 

Richie sighed. “Eddie, no offense, this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever asked me,” he said insistently as he drew him as close as possible. “But I’ll give you the same answer I gave you last night. I love you so much that I literally cannot imagine my life without you in it, so, yeah, I’d say I’m very happy and you’re the reason why. Shit, I’d cancel everything and marry you today if you weren’t insisting on the whole five year wait thing.”

Eddie gave him a satisfied smile and leaned up for a kiss. “Just making sure,” he said against their joined lips as Richie’s phone continued insistently buzzing in the background. “Your phone has been blowing the fuck up all morning,” he added with a nod over toward Richie’s night table. 

Richie rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I probably made it into a Buzzfeed article and it’s just my Twitter mentions. And possibly Scott leaving me voicemails begging me not to be late for the pre-show checks.” The phone buzzed once more, as if to prove his point. “See?”

“Maybe you should check it,” said Eddie, casually wandering his lips over to Richie’s collarbone. 

“Nah,” said Richie dismissively. “I’d much rather pick up where we left off,” he added, grabbing onto Eddie and gently rolling him over until Eddie was sitting on top of him. “That’s better,” he declared, settling back against the pillows so he could take in the always welcome sight of Eddie’s shirtless body, which was still very much displaying its battle scars. They were only slightly faded at this point, still quite visible and proud. He never missed an opportunity now to give them extra love so that Eddie never forgot how much Richie appreciated the reason for their existence. 

“I agree, and we can absolutely go back to this idea in a minute, but first, I really think you should check your phone,” Eddie insisted, resting his palms on Richie’s chest and looking down at him mischievously. 

“But why?” asked Richie exasperatedly. “It’s not import-“

“Richie,” Eddie interrupted him, leaning down to touch their noses together. “Check. Your. Goddamn. Phone.”

Richie gulped, trying not to let on how turned on he was by that unexpectedly deep, commanding voice that had just come out of Eddie’s mouth. “Ok, ok, Jesus,” he gave in, reaching for his glasses and shoving them onto his face before he grabbed his phone and slid it open. He scrolled through his notifications as Eddie climbed off of him and slid back into his side of the bed, wrapping his arms around Richie and resting his head on his chest to better see what was on the screen. 

“Twitter, Twitter, oh look, more Twitter, missed call from Bev, missed call from Scott- told ya…. uh… oh, wow, that’s a shit ton of Instagram notifications,” said Richie, absentmindedly pressing the first alert, which took him to the comment section of a post he’d apparently been mentioned in. “Ugh, it’s probably just a bunch of rabid fans-“

He suddenly stopped cold as he scrolled up and took a proper look at the post the comments were directed toward. It wasn’t all that remarkable, just a photo of a small, black box against a plain blue background, but what made his breath catch in his throat and his heart begin to pound were the next two things he noticed. 

For one, it had been posted from Eddie’s account, and, for two, the caption beneath the photo read:

** _Edward_Kaspbrak_ ** _ Might go a little nuts and ask  _ ** _@TrashmouthToz_ ** _ to marry me today. Think he’ll go for it? _

“E-Eds?” he said quietly, turning to look at Eddie and letting out a frantic “Oh, fuck!” when he realized that Eddie’s hand had slipped beneath one of the pillows and retrieved the same black box from the photo. Richie dropped his phone onto the bed, both hands instinctively going up to cover his mouth as he sat up and watched Eddie flip the box open to reveal a simple, silver band inscribed with a tiny  _ R+E _ . 

“Is...is that… are you…” Richie babbled from behind his hands, tears immediately welling up in his eyes as Eddie carefully removed the ring from its cushion and held it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I’ve decided the five year wait is a stupid idea,” said Eddie smugly. “I’m one hundred percent positive I want to live out the rest of my life beside you. And I want everyone in the world to know that I love you and I’m proud of you, so if you ...if you’d just do me the honor of wearing this ring… I know it’s not that nice looking...” Eddie trailed off as Richie stopped trying to hold back his sobs of happiness. 

“It’s p-perfect,” Richie managed to croak out through his tears, grabbing Eddie’s face with both hands and kissing him with everything he had in him, every ounce of love he’d ever felt for Eddie seeming to pour out of him at once as he struggled to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest. 

“Is that a yes?” Eddie murmured, smiling against his lips. 

Richie pulled back and fixed him with a quizzical gaze. “I don’t know,” he said cheekily with a loud sniff, wiping the tears away from his eyes with one hand. “You’re not on one knee.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I have a hard time getting down on my knees, asshole.”

“I didn’t hear you protesting last night.”

Eddie gave him a playful swat on the arm. “Oh my god, you’re ruining my romantic moment, you dick!”

Richie gave a watery smile, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “This is what you’re signing up for, are you absolutely sure you want this forever?”

Eddie’s dark eyes met his for a brief moment before he scrambled out from the tangle of sheets and maneuvered himself to face him, carefully adjusting his legs until his feet were tucked up underneath him. “Is this on my knees enough for you?” he asked, smoothing out a wrinkle in his pajama pants. 

“Yes.”

Eddie shook his head in amusement. “Ok, so let’s try this again.” He held the ring out and took a deep breath. “Richard Wentworth Tozier, will you marry me and be my favorite pain in the ass for the rest of my life?” Richie choked out a fresh sob as Eddie gently slipped the ring onto his finger and held onto his hand, waiting expectantly for an answer. 

“I take it back,” said Richie once he’d finally stopped crying and collected himself. 

“Take what back?”

“ _ This _ is actually the stupidest question you’ve ever asked me,” said Richie, grinning as his eyes traveled down to the shiny silver adorning his finger. “You know damn well what the answer is going to be.”

“That better be a yes, Ricardo,” said Eddie, his eyes narrowing adorably. 

“That’s a FUCK yes, Edward Franklin Kaspbrak, I will absolutely marry you and annoy the shit out of you until we die,” said Richie, pulling Eddie back on top of him and crashing their lips together as his forgotten phone continued to contribute happy buzzing noises to their joy. 

“Ok, but,” Eddie said in between soft kisses. “This means.. mmph.. this means you can’t make those jokes about your boyfriend anymore.”

“Wanna bet?” Richie challenged him. 

“They’re not accurate, you have to make them about your fiancé now,” Eddie pointed out. 

“True. Oh, wait. Speaking of,” said Richie, grabbing for his phone and opening the camera. He held his hand out in front of it, quickly snapping a picture. “Don’t move a muscle, I’m absolutely going back to worshipping your body in two seconds, just let me give the fans something to riot over.” He opened Instagram and selected the photo, smiling as he typed an accompanying caption he would remember forever. 

** _TrashmouthToz_ ** _ I said yes, motherfuckers.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
